I'd Kill to Love You
by Ironicpseudonymhere
Summary: Cameron Morgan. Josh Abrams. Zachary Goode. These three will come to realize that sometimes what happens in the past can't be forgotten. "Running away is never the answer." Synopsis inside!
1. Epiphanies of the Most Significant Kind

**Hey everybody! This is my first story in a while here on fan fiction, and really hope you guys enjoy it! It'll have a lot of unexpected twists and turns, so please review, and the updates will certainly come more quickly! :]**

_I'd Kill To Love You_

_Synopsis:_

Two men.

_Josh Abram._ A glass of tea that changed everything. Secrets covered up, feelings ignored, and conflicts forgotten. But once both Cameron Morgan and Josh Abrams had finally moved on and started their lives, the past comes back to haunt them in the worst kind of way. No friends, accomplices, lovers, or relatives of these two changing ex-lovers will be safe.

_Zach Goode. _A fateful day in the hospital decided his fate. No friends. No family. A life of secrecy, a life of espionage. No one knows the burdens he bears, and when his façade comes tumbling down, his coworkers and the love of his life with have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Safety was never an option in this desperate game of cat-and-mouse.

_"Sometimes the dreams that come true are the dreams that you never even knew you had." -Alice Sebold_

**Chapter One: Epiphanies of the Most Significant Kind**

_P1_**  
><strong>

_His fingers reaching for a delicate sword, he stared in awe at the majesty of this place._

_ "I wouldn't touch that if I were you." Josh's heart flew into his chest as he turned to face Cammie, a girl he had just realized he literally knew nothing about. He tried his best to keep his eyes focused on the sword, not knowing how to act around this apparently lethal woman. "We're pretty good at keeping things protected around here," she told him, a small smile on her face._

_ "So," he cleared his throat, "A spy, huh?" Josh couldn't believe what he was saying. This all must be a drea-_

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Damn it," Josh muttered to himself. Soaked in a cold sweat, he did his best to peel his sheets off his sticky body. Another dream about Cammie. This didn't make any sense. Josh hadn't seen Cameron Morgan for years. He was out of high school, putting himself through college at Georgetown University. The _last_ thing he should be thinking about is a silly high school girlfriend. Nonetheless, here he was in his dorm room, reeking of B.O. and stale spit, waking up from the tenth consecutive dream about Cammie.

Josh sat up, rubbing the eye boogers from the corners of his eyes, and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. "You are insane," Josh said to his disheveled reflection. His brown hair stuck out every which way, and the stubble on his face made him look like a homeless man. Shaking his head in contempt, he squeezed a glop of toothpaste onto the brush and shoved it in his mouth. He was losing sleep over these strange dreams. He had more important things he needed to focus on.

Josh had decided he wanted more for himself than taking up the family business at Abram and Son Pharmacy. He wanted more than a business degree at the local community college. He wanted… something different. Something exciting. Something no one would have ever expected of him.

With one last sigh, Josh shook his dream of Cammie out of his head and pulled on his running shoes. He pulled a water bottle out of the mini fridge and drank it all in quick gulp. As quietly as he could, Josh grabbed his iPod off the coffee table in a careful effort to not wake his roommate, Harrison. In one last final swoop, he grabbed his room key and took off out the door, not to return for a good six miles.

_P2_

"Ключ к знанию иностранного языка, чтобы попробовать и звучат как родные как можно больше," Professor Whitley preached to the class as Josh took notes in his notebook. He preferred to take notes in English simply because it was easier to jot down. "Try and sound like a native," Josh scribbled in his notebook. The Russian language was a beautiful one to him – it was so direct and eliminated the formalities that plagued the English language. For example, in a restaurant in America, one would say "Could you please pass that glass?" But in Russia you essentially say "Pass glass please."

The bell rang. "Класс составляет более," Whitley mumbled, running her hand through her graying hair as she dismissed the class for the day.

Josh sighed as he shoved his belongings into his duffel. He couldn't get Cammie off his mind – that bratty private school girl he used to care so much about. He walked out of the classroom, Nell following after him wordlessly. Josh hadn't uttered a thing to her all class, and Josh could tell she was uncomfortable.

"What's up with you today?" Nell asked him suddenly after a walk around campus in complete silence.

Josh tried to smile at his girlfriend. "Bad dreams, is all," he responded, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about it."

"Mmkay," Nell said doubtfully, "but you better perk up. You've got your polygraph today."

Josh's heart leaped into his chest. The polygraph that could make or break his dream. The extensive screening process to be admitted into the CST program at the CIA had been long and grueling for Josh – approximately ten months had gone by since he first sent in his pristine application. One final polygraph would conclude the hiring process, and he would enter the year-long training program at the conclusion of his senior year at Georgetown. This one polygraph would literally decide his fate, if he wanted to be dramatic about it.

"No worries, I got this. I've got nothing to hide, and you've already been accepted, so we're set." Josh leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "It's only a matter of time before we're traveling the world for the benefit of our country. What could go wrong?"

_P3_

"State your full name."

"Joshua Abrams."

"Are you twenty-four years of age?" The polygraph man asked, his tone robotic.

"Yes."

"Is it your intention to work for the Central Intelligence Agency?"

"Yes."

"Are you fluent in the languages of Russian, Arabic, Chinese, and English?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear your loyalty to the Central Intelligence Agency for the duration of your employment?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise to not withhold any confidential information outside of your jurisdiction from your employers and/or coworkers?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been associated with anyone else under the influence of the Central Intelligence Agency besides your significant other, Nell Duvall?"

"No."

The polygraph man stood up from his seat and walked out of the tiny, windowless room without a word.

Josh glanced at the polygraph machine and what he saw shocked him: _he was lying_.

His heart's beat tripled in speed as spurts of blood flashed in front of his eyes in his nervous excitement. He had just jeopardized his career by lying on a polygraph. But he _didn't_ know anyone else who was associated with the Central Int-

It hit him. Cammie.

Those weren't dreams. They were _flashbacks_.

He didn't know what to do. "Hey!" He shouted at the ceiling. He knew what he was doing was a bad idea, but he couldn't help but try and make one final attempt at honesty. "I know who I was associated with! Please!"

The polygraph man came quickly back into the room and sat back down, like he had been waiting for Josh's epiphany. "Who?"

"I've been having a recurring dream about my old girlfriend from high school, Cameron Morgan. We both lived in Roseville, Virginia, and she was homeschooled, as far as I know. But in my dream, she's a spy."

The polygraph man wrote something down on a paper pad, and things were utterly silent for a few painful seconds. "That concludes this polygraph session," he finally said, his eyes never leaving the paper pad. "Welcome to the Central Intelligence Agency."

_P4_

"To Josh! Without him, none of us would give a shit about Russia." Nell raised her beer bottle, and the rest of the small crowd followed, chuckling.

Josh rolled his eyes at Nell and jokingly took her beer. "No alcohol for you."

Nell gave him her signature _you're-full-of-shit _look and ran her hand through her thick, dark hair.

Harrison quickly joined Josh and Nell, a smirk across his face. "Looks like Josh wants you sober tonight, Nell."

"That's about as likely as you getting a haircut, isn't it Harrison?" Nell shot back, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. Harrison shook his shaggy brown hair in Nell's face, and she quickly swatted him away.

Harrison shrugged as Red Hot Chili Peppers faintly blasted in the distant background. "Stop mocking my hair and you can have my Bud." Harrison tossed his unopened beer into Nell's anxious hands, and Josh sighed. He had plans for this night, and it didn't include either Nell or himself being wasted.

Harrison grinned at them. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone to… chat in Russian? Sure, that works." He bounced away, quite aware of what Josh was planning tonight.

"Nell, c'mon, let's get out of here," Josh whispered into his Greek girlfriend's ear. "I've got reservations."

Nell, as quickly as she had opened her beer, tossed it into the trash and grinned at him. "Now you're talking."

Within moments, the two very athletically inclined CIA trainees were in Josh's black Suburu. As Nell was buckling up, Josh pulled a needle filled with sedative from his pocket and thrust it into Nell's jugular. She was out within a few seconds.

Josh took a deep breath. "Game time."

_P5_

Josh was a romantic, in a sense. He knew how to make a girl feel appreciated. And so, he figured a little rendezvous with Nell and his first meeting with her would be… perfect.

But a perfect reincarnation of their first meeting would be impossible, considering they had met in a small village in the Amazon Rainforest doing volunteer work, but he had to at least _try_. Never had he had a relationship with a woman that was so… abnormal. And in a moment, he remembered.

_"What's so great about being normal?" _Josh had said to Cammie. She hadn't given him a response.

_Cammie, stay out of my head._

The hammock lay nicely between the two trees as Josh laid her there, and he held their favorite food in his hands: churros. Now all that was left to do was sit… and wait.

It didn't take long for Nell's eyes to open, and he was right there, a smile on his face as he stared at the woman he wanted to love for the rest of his life.

She blinked up at him, a small grin erupting. "Hey there."

"Hey to you too," Josh replied. He handed her the churro. "Our favorite."

Nell giggled as some cinnamon and sugar fell into her hair. "What did you _do_ to me? My head hurts like a bitch."

"I injected sedative into your jugular. Quite effective." Josh smirked and joined her on the hammock. "Does any of this look familiar?" Josh gestured around him, presenting an almost exact replica of the village bonfire where they had first met.

Nell's smile lit up Josh's face as well. "Of course it does. The Yanomami village where we met."

"And I know we decided we weren't ever going to get cheesy with each other, but I'm being honest when I tell you that was the best day of my life," Josh told her, as he laid down his churro and pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket. "A day that marked the beginning of the rest of our lives."

Nell's eyes widened as she realized what Josh was about to do. He stood up from the hammock and got down on one knee. He opened the box and presented it to Nell. "Would you, Nell Duvall, marry me?"

Her beautiful green eyes welled with tears as she nodded furiously. "Yes. Yes. _Yes!_"

As soon as Nell's final yes left her mouth, time seemed to freeze. Nell's mouth, smiling. Nell's head, shaking up and down. Her green eyes, filled with joy.

But the scene suddenly shifted. A flash of fear in her cat-green eyes. A gasp as the bullet came into contact with her flesh. Nell fell to the ground with a thump as time returned to normal. A chorus of gunshots followed this bullet that hit Nell, but Josh didn't care.

He rushed to Nell's side, his heart breaking with every heartbeat, until he realized: she only had been shot in the shoulder. "_Run!_" Josh screamed as his instincts kicked in. He grabbed her hand as Nell struggled to her feet, blood the color of crimson seeping from her shoulder, and they kept their heads down as Josh and Nell madly fled the premises.

Suddenly, the firing ceased. Nell stopped and collapsed behind a tree, clutching her wounded shoulder. Josh kneeled next to her, assessing the situation and taking cover amongst some shrubbery.

"Welcome to the Central Intelligence Agency, trainees," a voice suddenly sounded through an unseen intercom. "Be prepared at all times. Expect the unexpected. Lesson one: concluded."

Josh and Nell looked at each other, having an epiphany of the worst kind. What had they gotten themselves into?

**Well, I really hope you guys like it! :D It's my first story, and I'm not sure how readers are going to respond to Josh' s POV. Trust me, though, there will be plentyyyy of Cammie and Zach in a little while! **_**Zach's POV is coming up next chapter!**_** :DDDD Please read and review! :D**


	2. Killing In the Name

**A great big thanks to all of you that are reviewing! Please, keep it up, and tell your friends to come read **_**I'd Kill to Love You**_**! The more reviews, the more frequent the updates! :D Here's Zach's POV!**

"_My love-lies-bleeding." –Thomas Campbell_

**Chapter Two: Killing In the Name**

_Inspired by Rage Against the Machine_

_P1_

The delicate, blood-red crosshairs steadied on his target, faint through the fog. His callus index finger hovered over the trigger, and before he knew what was happening, the tiny bullet was slicing through the thick air of Taiwan. The man fell to the ground, and Zach sighed. He picked up remote communication device. "Target: complete."

_You're a monster._

Zach's whole body felt heavy as he picked up his sniper and prepared for the helicopter that was to retrieve him. Another body.

_You should be the one dead._

Zach robotically disengaged the silencer from his advanced, lethal, and extremely accurate, sniper and kneeled amongst some tall, untrimmed grass. The one most important thing an assassin must realize is that if you're out to kill, chances are… you're not the only one.

_You had a chance to escape this._

That hurt more than anything. Those moments he had spent years forgetting – but with a past like Zach Goode's, you're trained not to forget a single thing.

_"I forgive you," she whispered, her eyes full of love and… exhaustion. "You don't have to do this."_

_ He was frightened. He felt for this girl. He cared for her. If she died, a part of him would die, too. He had to get away. "You don't understand, Cammie," Zach pleaded with her. "You'll be fine. You're good at what you do. You don't need my help."_

_ Her desperation was apparent; the exhaustion in her eyes was almost impossible to watch – it looked as if she could collapse at any moment. This – and everything else that had ever happened to her – was slowly going to tear her apart until there was nothing left… nothing left but the training she had acquired. And only then… would she be ready for what she's been preparing for her whole life._

_ She uttered the one thing that could shatter him. "I knew you'd leave."_

_ Zach swallowed the lump in his throat. "Never trust strangers with candy, Gallagher Girl," he whispered, almost smiling at the memory of that fateful moment in the elevator. The moment that had almost strayed him from his path. "You'll understand one day."_

Days would pass. Then weeks. Months. Years. It never got easier, leaving her. He wondered where she was now. Probably focusing on her blossoming career at the CIA – one amongst clandestine operations. He wondered if she ever thought about him.

He was just another high school crush, most likely; just like that man lying in the midst of Taiwanese jungle was just another target.

_P2_

Zach's expensive black Mercedes rolled through the dark of Arizona silently, the heat settling into his bones.

Just up ahead, the highway came to an end, just as Zach knew it would. He made a left into the cacti and shrubbery until his car was out of sight.

_"The letter drop will be marked by four surrounding cacti, each with five arms."_

Zach found the location easily. Pulling on some latex gloves he had picked up at a convenience store, Zach took the tip of his toe and drew the letter "Z" in the dirt.

Within a matter of seconds, the tiniest of platforms arose from the gravel, atop of it a package. It was signed as such:

"_To Z_

_From a friend"_

Zach carefully lifted the package with his index fingers and thumbs. He tapped the platform three times, waited a few seconds, and then he tapped it once more. It returned to the ground with a squeak.

In a quick glance, Zach squinted up at the orange and purple sunset; he knew of all places, Arizona's twilights would always let him forget his misery – if only for a moment.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he turned to open his package. The rough burlap had been quickly tied together with a piece of string. Quickly pulling on one loop of the haphazardly put together package, the wrappings fell apart within a few seconds.

The package contained a miniature, coarse-looking wooden chest, with a small latch in the front. Quickly opening up the chest, inside he found an unmethodical group of items: an '87 pistol, a letter addressed to one William Puckett, 20 pesos, what appeared to be a Palm Pilot, and a photograph… of Cammie.

Zach sat on the cracked dirt in shock as he gaped at the photo. He hadn't seen Cammie in years. It was evident that this picture was recently taken; she looked taller, and… curvier. Her hair was left out of a ponytail, which was rare for her. Zach took note that it had grown out to the small of her back. She smiled at the camera, but there was something about her expression. Zach knew her well enough to tell that she was worried about something—something significant.

Upon closer inspection, Zach noticed a man, approximately 6'1'', with dark, European features standing just far enough away to not be easily noticed. He was looking at Cammie, obviously waiting for her to join him.

After quickly glancing at the other items, he realized they were all significant to a target the agency had been scoping out by the name of Juan Chavez, an extremely dangerous arms dealer working out of Paraguay… all of the items except the photograph. Whoever had made this drop knew Zach Goode _very_ well.

And that was certainly strange, because _no one_ knew Zach… not really.

_P3_

Flashes of red. Screams of terror. Eyes of various colors – blue, green, brown, hazel – pleading for mercy.

But Zach had known he would give no one leniency. He had his orders – kill them all.

He remembered every single one of them.

The frail elderly woman, who had worn her favorite gray cardigan – Zach knew it was her favorite because of the frayed sleeves – who didn't have the strength to plead with him. Her death was instantaneous.

He remembered the group of Hispanic boys who had been playing an innocent game of soccer. Each of them wore makeshift jerseys to distinguish the teams, and they had tried to fight back. A few balls were tossed at his face, and one boy kicked him in the shin, but ultimately none of them could win against a sniper.

An exhausted man returning from work in his early forties had been killed by Zach's hand as well; his tie loosened, his hair frazzled, the man seemed to be ready to return to his wife and kids for a nice family dinner. Zach and his team had killed his family as well.

Most of all, he remembered the young woman who looked eerily like Cameron Morgan. Her mannerisms were even the same – she blended into the crowd so well, Zach had almost missed her. Unfortunately, his bullet _did_ reach its intended target… and it tore through him just like it tore through her.

Zach opened his eyes. "Please, let me sleep," he muttered, tossing back and forth on a straw mat in a Japanese training facility. "These fucking 'beds' are the worst," he complained to his roommate, Akio.

Akio chuckled. "You telling me. Try sleep on them… how you say, all the days?"

Zach smiled slightly. "Every day."

Akio nodded. "Ah. Every day. American English is strange to us Japanese."

"Japanese is strange to us Americans." Zach knew he would not be sleeping tonight. Too many bad memories. "Where do you guys keep the whiskey?" he asked, rubbing his temples.

Akio sat up and cracked his back. "No drink here."

Zach sighed. "I suspected as much." With one swift move, Zach was up and headed towards the door. "I'll be back."

"Where you go to?" Akio asked, almost ready to get up and follow him.

Zach glanced over his shoulder. "Somewhere where I can think. Don't wait up."

Without making even the tiniest of noises, Zach swiftly made his way through the facility, not a soul walking about. But Zach knew better. At a location of this significance, there were bound to be security measures that would try to keep people out and, even more so, keep people in. Of course, it would be no trouble for someone of Zach's caliber. He made it through the heat sensors, retinal scanners, touch-sensitive floorboards and guard towers in less than ten minutes. He had been trained well.

His Mercedes waited for him a few blocks away. He took to a jog as to get out of that place as quickly as possible; get away from that place that brought on the most horrible flashbacks he had ever suffered through. There was something about that hard straw mat, the silent breathing of Akio, the aroma of incense burning in the distant background, which drove him into the darkest depths of his mind. It was a place that he would not be returning to.

_P4_

"Zach, you still had three days in-"

Zach rolled his eyes. "Spare me. We both know I learned what was needed, and I was done with that place."

How could Zach describe Marina Hastings? He could use the term that described her professional obligation to Zach: his "boss", for instance, but that didn't seem to sum her up quite right. He could use her most dominant character trait: "hardcore", but that didn't completely fit, either. It seemed to Zachary Goode that best word to describe Marina Hastings was simply this: legendary.

After all, there had never been another assassin to target _themselves_ and accurately stage their own murder. No other spy had established themselves as a legal citizen in eleven different countries, each with a different pseudonym. Zach himself certainly had never met another who had removed themselves entirely from the CIA's radar… but Marina Hastings, the last _truly_ great assassin, had.

Marina's mouth curled into a slightly frightening half smile as she sat up from her desk. She made her way towards him, her nail dragging along the polished mahogany. "Oh, Zach." She shook her head back and forth, like she was lecturing a five-year-old.

Zach looked her in the eye. "Oh, Marina."

Marina chuckled as she leaned against the front of her desk. "Not my real name, but nice try." She pulled a box of Marlboros out of her pocket and lit one. She took a drag, and thought for a moment. "You know, I've faked my own death, avoided approximately 2034 bullets, and been in the line of radiation of an atomic bomb, and still, it'll most certainly be these cigarettes that kill me." She smiled. "Ironic, isn't it?"

Zach shrugged. "I don't believe in irony."

Marina raised her eyebrows. "You're a smart boy… but still so impatient. You think you know it all, Zachary Goode." Marina pointed at him with her missing finger, lecturing him. "You still have much to learn. You would do well to trust me. Go back." Marina's dark auburn hair glowed like fire as she commanded him.

Marina had learned long ago that Zach took orders from no one… so what was her purpose in commanding him? A test, he wondered?

Zach stood up from his chair and approached her, despite every small piece of him that urged for the opposite. "You know me, Marina. I'm not going anywhere. Stop testing me."

Marina's hazel eyes showed no emotion. "I'll stop testing you as soon as you start passing." She took the last few steps toward Zach and looked him dead in the eye. "You could be the best of us all, Zach, if you would just _take some advice_."

Zach smiled. "Like you used to take advice?"

For the first time since Zach had known her, Marina actually looked surprised. "I'm very different than you, Zach."

"How?"

Marina didn't answer him, but rather asked a different question: "Why are you making this about me, Zach? What happened in that place?"

Zach examined every detail, crease, emotion, and color in Marina's face as he thought about what to say. "I remembered."

Marina just stared at him for a moment, and then she did something Zach would never have expected. She reached up and touched his cheek. It felt… nice. But as soon as it had started, it was over. She just nodded in understanding. "Trust me, that won't be the last time you remember. You won't ever live it down." She looked almost sad as she spoke these harsh words. "Take my word for it."

Zach swallowed the lump in his throat and shook off their strange… encounter. "Great pep talk."

Marina stepped away from him and shrugged. "I was never your counselor. I'm your boss. Get over it." She sat back down at her desk. "Now get the hell out of my office."

_P5_

Waiting.

One would be surprised how little action comprises the job of an assassin: there is a single moment in which you pull a trigger, but the rest encompasses sitting around and… thinking. Thinking about things you've done and what you're going to do.

And that was what Zach Goode was doing. Thinking.

_"Quit blaming yourself," Marina ordered, her eyebrows arched in a harsh V. "You didn't choose this life; neither did I. Embrace what is not your choice, because there's nothing you can do about it."_

_ Despite Marina's "comforting" words, Zach felt himself falling apart. "She trusted me," he muttered, and turned to leave, leaving his future boss in his midst._

_ "Come back here," Marina called, reaching for his hand. "I want to show you something."_

_ Tentatively, Zach followed her; but he suspected there was nothing she could show him that could change how he felt._

_ Marina led Zach into her pristine office, the first time he had ever entered that room he would grow to be so familiar with._

_ Marina walked over to her bookcase and pulled out a particularly worn looking book without a title. "Take a look," she said, tossing it into his waiting hands._

_ Zach took a deep breath and turned to the first page, a photograph of an infant, with the subtitle "Mary Louise Newton."_

_ "Who's this?" Zach asked, confused._

_ "My first target," Marina murmured. Zach almost thought he heard her voice crack, but he could have been hearing things._

_ "Your first target was… a baby."_

_ "Uh, yes," Marina responded, insulted. "You think I would lie to you? She was the daughter of an oil mogul, and the whole company had been left to her in the event of his death…"_

_ "Lemme guess," Zach interrupted her, "The oil company was corrupt and it would, by default, be given to the government in the event of Mary's death."_

_ "You got it." Marina sighed. "Every single one person I've ever killed is photographed in that book. I never want to forget what I did, and where I'm going to go because of it." Marina raised her eyebrows at him and pointed to the ground._

_ Zach ran his hand through his hair, almost chuckling at how screwed they both were. "See you there."_

_ Marina smirked. "We've still got some living left to do, kid. Don't let this drag you down. Make your own book, and 'lock those memories away for a rainy day,' my dad used to tell me."_

And Zach knew to this day that Marina was right. He couldn't change the past, and he had to accept that fact and move on…

Or die trying.

**Well, there ya'll go! I hope you enjoyed Zach's POV, and I also hope it wasn't too intense and depressing. That wasn't **_**totally**_** my intention. Haha. Sorry for taking so long to update, but the more reviews I get, the sooner I update! They motivate me! :D**

** Please read and review! :]**

**OH and there'll be some Zammie soon!  
><strong>


	3. Ambiguous

**Thanks to you all who are reviewing! Although I didn't get nearly as many as last chapter, I still appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to give me your opinions! :] I know a lot of you were wanting Cammie's POV, but the whole point of this story is to have a different take on the Gallagher Girls' stories. If I did Cammie's POV, it would be harder to be different for the sake of being different, if you know what I mean. Haha. But yeah. I'm done blabbering. Here's the chapter! Enjoy!**

"_Just because everything is different _doesn't_ mean anything has changed." -Irene Peter_

**Chapter Three: Ambiguous**

_P1_

"Through your trials and tribulations, your long nights of studying, and the inevitable hangovers," the entire graduating class of 2015 chuckled, "you all have done it. I'm proud to present Georgetown University's graduating class of 2015!"

In every single high school and college graduation in the existence of the universe, students threw their graduating caps into the air in an expression of their excitement. Josh never knew why they would do such a thing; he wanted his cap, thank you very much.

But Josh Abram had thought ahead. He had bought himself an extra graduation cap, just so he could throw it in the air along with the rest of his classmates and forget about it. It was simply a gesture, any way you slice it.

Nell found this hilarious when he told her about his foster cap post-hat throwing. "You, my love, are a strange cookie," she said to him, wearing her loose-fitting cap and gown like it was an expensive Louis Vuitton dress, despite the arm sling she was now wearing because of the CIA's first so called "lesson."

Josh smiled like a madman whenever he was with this woman. He walked toward her, the goofy expression never leaving his face. "And you, my love, are beautiful." He wrapped his arms around her and planted a passionate kiss on her waiting mouth, until he heard a quiet "ouch" escape her lips. He immediately put his arms to his sides. "What's wrong?"

Nell rolled her eyes. "This sling."

Josh nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry, babe. I should be more careful."

She smirked at him. "Careful's boring. C'mere."

Josh grinned at her as he leaned in yet again.

But out of the corner of his eye he saw something; or _someone_ to be more specific.

Cammie. Before Josh knew was he was doing, he pulled away from Nell. He was running past her towards Cammie, cap, gown, and all, leaving Nell extremely confused behind him.

Cammie – at least he thought it was Cammie – simply stood there, a familiar half-smile on her face. Through the crowd of people, it was hard to keep eyes on her. One moment, there she was, smirking at him; the next, a flurry of navy caps passed in front of her and she was… gone.

Josh just stood there, his breath heavy from running.

Of course she was gone.

Josh madly searched Georgetown's campus for hours, looking for a woman he _knew_ wasn't going to be found. After all, wasn't it her _job_ not to be found?

But Josh couldn't help but think that she had disappeared as quickly as a piece of dust blowing in the wind.

He hadn't been seeing things. She had been there. She had been trying to mess with his head. He had limited training, skill, and experience in the area of business, espionage—Josh knew that for sure—but he did know one thing: Cammie was watching him.

But why? The only fathomable reason why she would be here was his dreams that he had told the polygraph guy. They must be true. Cameron Morgan, his high school fling, was an operative working for the Central Intelligence Agency.

Now that Josh thought about it, he, as well, worked for the CIA, but not on so high of a caliber. Maybe she was here to help train him? Was this lesson two?

No, Josh decided that couldn't be possible; the CIA had a strict, impersonal way of going about things. They would not risk bringing emotions of this sort into the equation.

Before Josh knew it, the sun was setting. He had to get home, yet he still had so many questions.

He groaned in annoyance and left the School of International Service building and headed toward his dorm. There was nothing he could do about finding Cammie—for now.

_P2_

Family dinners. Oh, how Josh dreaded these once-a-month occasions. The drive back to Roseville, the familiar greetings of childhood friends, the manicured Gallagher grounds… it all just brought back terrible memories.

"And how's your fiancée?" Josh's mother asked, the familiar smell of her cherry pie baking in the background. "What was her name again? Bell?"

Josh sighed. "You know her name is Nell, mother."

She ignored him. "You know, DeeDee's doing fabulously at the pharmacy. She recently returned from college with a degree, and is making great money. You could learn from her, Joshua," his mother stirred the mashed potatoes, "and she certainly does miss you."

Josh, in sheer boredom, grabbed the salt shaker and poured some grains onto his plate. "That's great, Mom."

"I invited her for dinner."

Josh slammed the salt shaker on the table. "Seriously, Mom? Nell is here. That's _rude_."

Joshua's ever-persistent mother simply shrugged. "You and DeeDee were friends as well as lovers, Josh. _Friends_. So please, stop pouting. It's just dinner. She isn't going to bite."

"You're unbelievable." Josh shook his head back and forth and went back to turning the grains of salt on his plate into shapes. A square. Circle. The little crystals on his plate kept him from _glaring_ thick, shiny daggers at his mother.

"I'm sure DeeDee and Nell will be very mature about it," his mother went on, chopping up cucumbers, "Unlike _you_," she said, butchering one unfortunate cucumber in restrained annoyance. Josh thought it funny, the way his mother beat that cucumber to a pale green pulp.

Josh had enough of this. "Okay, call me when dinner's ready." He stood up from the table, pushing his chair in rather _loudly_, to say the least. His chair had scuffed the tiles on the floor.

"Where are you going?" She called out. The slamming of the wooden front door was the only reply she got.

While Josh inaudibly muttered to himself as he fumbled with his car keys, DeeDee's blue VW Bug pulling in at _just_ the right time.

Josh rolled his brown eyes and stuck the car key in the door. "And my day keeps getting better and better."

"Josh! Hey!" DeeDee called out, her beautiful blond hair blowing over her shoulders as she got out of the car. "Long time no see!" Her cute little sundress had a hemline slightly… higher… than Josh had been expecting.

She made her way over to him, her arms outstretched. Josh hugged her back, reluctantly. "Hey, DeeDee." She smelled like flowers and shampoo.

They pulled away from each other, and she smiled at him. Without warning, she gave him a big kiss on the lips. It was short, almost friendly... she left her arms around his neck. _Very_ subtle. "Look at you, Mr. Big Shot! How was Georgetown?"

"The best time of my life." He grinned at her, trying to hide how uncomfortable he was. "I think I like D.C. life. This small town just doesn't really suit me."

She shrugged, her index finger wrapping around the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. It gave him goose bumps. "You used to be perfectly happy here," she almost purred at him.

Josh pulled away from her. "Have you met my fiancée yet?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her slightly.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Not yet. That's why I'm _so_ excited for dinner!" Her blue eyes glowed in sincere enthusiasm.

He nodded. "Well then, It'll be about another half hour before dinner's ready, and I'm about to take off, so-"

"Where are you going?" She interrupted him, her toned legs taking a step toward him. He didn't remember DeeDee being like _this_.

"I've got some personal… stuff… to take care of," Josh said, taking a backwards step towards his unlocked car. He had to get to Gallagher Academy.

"Like what kind of personal stuff?" She asked, backing him against his car, her face just inches from his. He could smell the mint on her breath.

"DeeDee, seriously invading my personal space right now."

She put her hand on his chest. "Oh, but you like it. I can feel your heart racing." She smirked at him, tracing her finger across his lower lip. "Let's try that kiss again, shall we?" She leaned in.

"Ooookay," Josh put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away from him. "DeeDee, _I've_ got to go, and _you've_ got to stop smoking whatever it is that you're smoking."

Before she could reply, Josh hopped in his car and sped away.

He would _not_ be staying for dinner.

_P3_

Josh turned off his headlights as he parked about a block away from the school grounds. If this school was for what he _thought_ it was for, the security was probably more thorough than that at the White House.

He knew it would be foolish to think that he could sneak into the grounds, so he would do the exact opposite: let the CIA know where he was through Nell, who was awaiting a text message at his house, and he would walk right in. All he had to do was call their bluff.

He took a deep breath. "Here we go."

Josh took large strides toward the rusty front gate, his heart beating furiously. It looked a lot more… worn… than he remembered. The grass looked wild and uncut, the vines on the surrounding walls thick and overgrown.

Josh located the alarm screen, and hit the little red button that would signal to someone inside that he was here. He waited and waited and waited.

No one came.

The first thought that popped into his head was that they were onto him—they weren't going to let him in and blow their secret.

But then he got to thinking… something just didn't look right. There was usually at least one guard protecting the grounds during this hour of the day, and there wasn't anyone in sight. In fact, one could hardly see past the tall grass covering most of the school grounds. It looked legitimately abandoned.

"Hey, you!" A coarse voice called out behind him. "What are you doing over there?"

When he turned around, an angry looking old man wearing a fishing cap, accessorizing with a cigarette, was stomping towards him. "These grounds here been closed down."

Josh widened his eyes at the man. "What?"

The man blew smoke in his face. "Boy, are you stupid? I just done said it's _closed_."

It surely looked closed, Josh knew that for sure. "How long has it been closed?"

The man hung the cigarette from the corner of his mouth as he reached down to pull his pants up. "Hmm, let's see here…" The man's drawl made it sound like he was saying "hurr", "It's doggone been five years or so now."

Josh's mind was reeling with possibility. That had been the year Cammie graduated. "Do you know why it closed?"

"Geez, kid, who are ya? Some kinda reporter?"

"Sort of," he replied. "I'm a journalist student, and I work for my school newspaper. I'm looking for a feature story." Lies, of course.

"Well, you ain't gonna find your story here," he said, scratching his neck with the back of his hand. "Those rich kids gone run out of money, that's all."

Josh nodded in understanding, trying to get rid of the man. "Well, thanks anyway, sir. Sorry to disturb your evening."

The man grunted as she shook Josh's hand. "Yeah. Well, have a good day, ya hear?" He replied roughly, probably returning to the trailer home he would inevitably live in.

He had not gotten any of the answers he had been expecting from this overgrown jungle of a school. Josh clenched his fist and kicked the tire of his car. There was no use.

The Gallagher Academy was about as elusive as Cameron Morgan herself.

_P4_

"I feel like I'm headed out for my first day of high school again, the way they're treating us," Nell mumbled into Josh's ear as they walked, single-file, into a classroom in which they would be "briefed" on the nature of how their year at the CST program would be like.

Josh was barely listening. He didn't care how they treated him; he was simply ecstatic to be here. It was surreal moment for Joshua Abram—he was finally realizing his dream, something he had never thought could really happen… and yet, here he was.

"Welcome, trainees," a beautiful woman—with Cammie's eyes, he noted—welcomed them, pacing at the front of the room. "I don't need to tell you why you're here. I don't need to tell you the dangers of what you're getting yourself involved in. And I _certainly_ don't need to tell you that no one but your coworkers will know who you _really_ are." She clasped her hands together and looked at them all. "Because you all know that already." Her hands fell to her sides, and she half-smiled at a man across the room that was guarding the front door. "What I _do_ need to tell you is what you will be doing here. And I think you'll all be delighted." Her half-smile erupted into a full grin as the man in the back opened the door. "Go take a look for yourselves."

_P5_

"Absolutely astounding!" A pale woman with a British accent exclaimed as they were led into the barracks. "All beneath D.C. and nobody ever knew!"

Josh was quite awestruck, as well. There was even a training facility located beneath Georgetown, a place where he had spent four years of his life, and he had never known.

"There are many things we still don't know about," Nell responded, sounding a little dark, mischievous, and excited all at the same time.

The barracks weren't simply rooms with bunk beds. There were punching bags, dumbbells, a track, and numerous other equipment included in the room as well. They had universal dictionaries—for Arabic, Chinese, Russian, Farsi, Urdu, and numerous others—just lying around. He would have _killed_ for a Russian dictionary during finals.

A deafening "BEEEEEEEEEEEEP" interrupted the trainees' excitement. They all covered their ears in shock, the beeping pounding into their brains like hammers. He thought he even heard the British woman scream. "Trainees, report to the courtyard. Immediately."

The group, herded together like cattle, rushed into the courtyard, Josh and Nell gripping each other's hands tightly as to not be separated. They were all acting like a bunch of giddy schoolchildren, not future CIA operatives. And by the looks on their superiors' faces, they were thinking the exact same thing.

"I take it you all enjoyed the barracks," the same woman from the classroom said, looking slightly amused at the events preceding the courtyard meeting. "Very mature."

There were a few moments of silence as the woman allowed the group of "cattle" to sheepishly stare at their shoes.

"No matter. It's time to get down to more serious matters. I must introduce you to your trainers." She turned toward the lineup of, Josh noted, very _young_ looking people.

"This is Macey McHenry," she gestured toward a beautiful woman with dark hair, who looked rather disinterested in what was going on. "She will teach you the art of disguise."

The woman took another step down the line a introduced another, this one a skinny, awkward-looking blond. "This is Elizabeth Sutton, and she will teach you surveillance, behind the scenes." She moved to another, a dark-skinned Egyptian. "This is Rebecca Baxtor. She'll oversee all covert operations training."

Josh widened his eyes as he saw who was coming up next.

"And this…" the woman began, her words going in slow motion, "is Zachary Goode. Let's just say you'll learn from him how to become completely and utterly non-existent."

Zach. The boy he met in town when was still in high school. _The boy who had been with Cammie_.

Josh was getting close… _very_ close… to finding her.

Even Cameron Morgan can't hide forever.

**Mmkay, there ya go! :D I know this chapter may seem a little bit like filler, but filler is necessary. Boring, but necessary. I hope you guys like it anyway! :D Please review, and I'll update more quickly! :]**


	4. The Calm Before the Storm

**Wow! You guys reviewed like crazy! :D Normally I have to wait at least a couple days for each chapter to reach ten reviews, but I've got way more than that now! So, thanks to all you reviewers out there, here's chapter four! Enjoy!**

"_There is love, of course. And then there's life, its enemy." –Jean Anouilh_

**Chapter Four: The Calm Before the Storm**

_P1_

The heat radiated from the fire, and Zach stared at the bright orange flames with eerie intensity.

The mix of orange and deep yellow could end everything—his pain, his longing, his flashbacks—those delicate wisps of flame that were dangerously beautiful. To Zach, it looked like a welcoming blanket that longed to enwrap anything it came into contact with.

But he was too weak to crawl into that orange blanket and never leave it.

Weakness. It was a disgraceful, dishonoring term. But nonetheless, Zachary Goode found himself full of it—weaknesses, cowardice, _fear_— it was a different type of weakness not typically known to mankind.

He was afraid of his own happiness.

_"You'll come back one day," she choked out as he turned his back on her—both literally and figuratively. "And I'll be ready."_

_Zach's shoulders tensed and he closed his eyes. "Don't wait for me, Gallagher Girl," he whispered._

_"Oh, I won't." Her voice was now hard, impersonal. "You will come back and I'll get my chance—my chance to hurt you. I swear on that."_

_It felt like Zach's insides were being churned inside and out, like butter. "I just want you to be happy." He couldn't take anymore—he didn't have the strength._

"Goodbye, Cammie," Zach heard himself say aloud, his mind still back inside that plane over the Swiss Alps.

The now-worn photograph of Cammie sat inside his jacket pocket, and he pulled it out. His rough index finger outlined the traces of her face, and he sighed. This wasn't healthy.

Without thinking, Zach tossed the photo in the fire and watched it burn. That's all he could do.

The flames sparked and crackled as Zach sat amongst the coldest center of Siberia, and he wondered how he had gotten there. He knew, short term, why he was there—Marina had assigned him a target—but long term, he knew where he _really_ wanted to be.

The faintest buzzing of a helicopter wandered into Zach's ear. His ride was here.

_"Why did you do that?" Grant asked him as Zach landed on the ground. "Weren't you supposed to stay with Cam-"_

_"Drop it," Zach had commanded his classmate, pulling off his parachute gear without another thought._

Those moments—Zach was unable to block them out. He would regret that one jump, that one conversation, that one… instant… for the rest of his life.

_P2_

"One shot," Zach droned at the bartender, pointing to a particularly appealing bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"No problem, man," The macho-looking gentleman of about his own age replied, turning his back on him to work his magic amongst his bottles and wineglasses, clanking them together like bells.

"I didn't peg you as the drinking type," A woman said to him, taking a seat on the worn, red barstool next to him.

Zach's head drooped with exhaustion as he turned to look at her. Dark-haired. Possibly of Mediterranean decent. "What type did you 'peg' me as?"

The woman shrugged, almost embarrassed to see the look on his face. Her green eyes scanned his. "I dunno. But something in your eyes… it makes me think otherwise."

Zach chuckled as the waiter handed him his drink. He twirled the brown liquid around in the tiny shot glass, trying to make a miniature whirlpool. "Well, people aren't always what you expect, sweetheart."

"You can say that again," the woman replied with a shrug.

Zach tossed his head back and swallowed the shot in one gulp. He grimaced. The substance tasted foul.

"Two shots of Maker's Mark," the woman said to the bartender. "Thanks."

Zach laid his head on the counter. She obviously wasn't going to leave.

"I always wondered why people came to places like this," the woman commented, her fingernails tracing shapes on the table. "But then I realized life is just one miserable experience after another. The only thing that eases the pain is this." The woman handed him a shot.

Zach accepted the drink, but narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the woman. "Do I know you?"

"Probably not," she said, turning to face the bar. She tossed her drink in her mouth in one swift swoop.

"How do you know I'm in pain?"

The woman chuckled. "It's obvious. A man like you, who comes to a place like this, sits at the bar by himself, and doesn't talk to women. Either you're in pain or you recently murdered someone."

_Or both,_ Zach thought in amusement. This woman certainly had his attention. It was almost suspicious. _Almost_. He turned his rusty stool to face her, his shot of Maker's Mark anxiously awaiting him. "And what about you?"

"It's complicated."

Zach smirked, giving her the once over. His training took over. 5'4'', 115 lbs. A small scar on her right jaw bone. "Let me guess. Judging by that still-shiny ring on your finger, you're recently engaged. But the fact that you're wearing the ring leads me to believe that it's not exactly trouble with your fiancé, but rather… his family? An ex?"

The woman widened her eyes at him. "Well, actually, yeah."

Zach nodded. He was never wrong. The silent buzzing of a television that just went off transmission caught his attention in the background. It was getting late; the bar was about to close.

"How'd you know?"

Zach half-smiled. "Experience."

She just looked at him, a strange expression on her face. "I'm Nell."

"Xander," Zach replied, holding his hand out for her to shake. He never told citizens his real name.

"Well, Xander, nice talking to you. But looks like I better be-"

"Wait," Zach interrupted her, placing his hand on her forearm to keep her from leaving. "Do you want to get out of here? With me?"  
>The woman glared at him. "You perv-"<p>

Zach shook his head madly back and forth. "No, no. Not like that."

Her expression calmed. She was beautiful. "Okay."

_P3_

Midnight blue skies. Sparks of stars. Still waters, reflecting the moon, like it would lead into an alternate universe.

"Wow. How'd you find out about this place?" Nell asked, her finger tracing ripples across the water's surface. She was a little tipsy.

"My dad brought me here when I was just a kid," Zach replied. That actually wasn't a lie. Normally, Zach's father would take him training facilities and shooting ranges, but one day, he had brought him… here. "It's one of the only places I just feel… comfortable."

"Josh would like it here," she slurred under her breath—she hadn't meant for Zach to hear it—but of course he had. "You know what it makes me think of, Xander?"

Zach stared at the water, watching a leaf float slowly across the surface. "Hmm?"

"That moment… right before something goes wrong. The one second of serenity."

Zach's eyes wandered to Nell's hair. It looked almost purple in the moonlight. She reminded him of Cammie, the way she walked. "Your fiancé is a lucky man."

She turned to him, a look of intent on her soft face. "He knows it, too." She wobbled over to the tree he was sitting under and plopped down next to him.

They sat in silence.

"Why did you bring me here?" Nell whispered, running her hands through her hair.

Zach examined her. "Why did you come?"

She laughed, heartily. "Touché."

An ordinary woman was actually sitting here with him in this place. "I should get you home," Zach said suddenly. He was feeling too… happy.

Nell huffed and leaned back on the grass. "You should, but I don't want you to."

He lay down next to her, propping his head up on his elbow. "Why not?"

"You like me for who I'm not," she whispered, rubbing her eyes and smiling.

Zach sighed. "Who says I like you? I barely know you."

She gave him a look. "You know what I mean. It's so unlike me, coming here. With someone I don't know-"

"No, I get it. You're drunk. C'mon." Zach lifted her into his arms, cradling her like a small child.

"I can walk _myself_ to the car," Nell began to insist.

Zach almost smiled. "Yeah, I know."

_P4_

Marina glared at Zachary Goode. This was something she did quite often, to tell the truth, but this was the first time Marina was doing so because he was looking too... _giddy_. "What is _wrong_ with you?" She asked, poking his bicep as if he might be an imposter.

"What's company policy on telling people about your real career?" Zach asked thoughtfully, polishing an antique Samurai sword.

Marina sighed and yanked the sword out of his hands. "This company doesn't have any policies, because technically this company doesn't exist. Understand?"

Zach rolled his eyes. "You _know_ what I mean."

Marina crossed her arms. "No, I'm not really sure I do. What's going on with you, Zach? Please tell me this isn't about some chick. We trained romance right out of you years ago."

There was one thing Zachary Goode knew for certain: he was miserable, lonely, bitter... He had lost the love of his life once, and he knew he'd never get a shot with her again. So why couldn't he meet someone else? Who cares that she was engaged? "It's not just some-"

"OKAY," Marina exclaimed loudly, throwing her hands up in the air, "Who does she work for? CIA? MI6? NSA? Seriously, I swear that event in Singapore is what got us caught-"

"Marina," he interrupted her, chuckling, "she's not with intelligence."

Marina's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Huh."

"She's just a normal citizen. And I actually _like_ her. I actually enjoy the company of someone for the first time in years."

The corner of Marina's mouth twitched. "That's great, Zach." Sarcasm.

"What's so wrong if I just tell her?" Zach asked, his mind reeling. "I mean, tell her I work for intelligence. She probably wouldn't like the whole assassin thing-"

"No."

Zach looked at her, confused. "But-"

"I said no."

And that, Zachary Goode realized, was that.

_P5_

"Aim," she whispered, "fire."

The whistling of the bullet as it flew through the air was refreshing to Zach, simply because it was not aiming for a human skull.

He hit the target dead center.

"Wow, you're good at this shit," Nell said, giving him a high-five. "Lemme try." She poised the gun on her shoulder; her form was absolutely perfect.

"And you said you've never done this before?" Zach asked her skeptically. Nobody was _this_ good without training.

She chuckled, squinting into the distance. She pulled the trigger, grazing the first ring near the bull's eye. "I may have shot a few guns here and there."

He smirked at her. "Knew it."

They stood in silence, Zach looking up into the electric blue sky. It was a good day.

"God, I could never get Josh to do something like this with me," she said to him, leaning against his shoulder. "It's nice."

"It's nice for me too." He turned to face her. "Are things good between you and him?"

She grimaced. "I guess, but he just seems so distant lately. He never tells me anything. It makes me sick."

Zach picked up his beer off the ground. "So you're one of those types? The 'my husband needs to tell me when he wipes his ass' types?"

She laughed. "No, but I mean I guess I value communication, and he _apparently_ doesn't."

Zach nodded. "Well, I wish I could say I relate, but I'd be lying." He plopped down on the dirt.

Nell joined him on the ground. "What do you mean?"

Before Zach had a chance to answer, a sudden ring of his cell phone - the really secret one - sent Zach's mind back into reality. "Hello?"

"Code Chameleon. I repeat, CODE CHAMELEON." Marina hung up.

Zach's heart flew out of his chest in a way he wasn't sure was possible. He had to get out of here. "Nell, I'm really sorry, but I've got to go."

Nell laughed loudly as Zach ran away from her. "Yeah, that figures."

In the back of his mind, Zachary Goode felt bad about leaving Nell on the dirt, by her self, surrounded by empty beer bottles and shotgun shells, but Cammie... was _here_. In D.C.

And he would find her.

**There ya'll go! I'm sorry the last two chapter haven't been as good, but I'm madly trying to get my summer assignments done. Haha. So please read and review, and chapters will come more quickly! You guys know the drill! :P Hahaha. Enjoy!**


	5. Tracking Chameleons

**Thanks for all the reviews! Hereeee's chapter five! :D**

"_The cruelest lies are often told in silence." –Robert Louis Stevenson_

**Chapter Five: Tracking Chameleons**

_P1_

That look in his eye said it all—he knew something. That dark hair, that smirk, that gait. It was masterful, really, the way Zachary Goode pretended not to recognize Josh Abrams. It infuriated him, Zachary Goode's arrogance—his years of experience shown through in his eyes. An extensive amount of wise knowledge seemed impossible to exist in a body of a young man, only twenty four years of age.

"Josh?" Nell whispered through the darkness, poking his shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

Josh's head was not in that room with his fiancée—it never was anymore. "Yeah, in a second," he murmured, his fingers flipping through the pages of his worn journal. It had been through hell these past few weeks, that journal had—dragged through the CIA's Olympic-sized swimming pool, the two-day expedition in the Amazon rainforest, that cup of coffee he had this morning… "I'm looking for something…"

It had to be in there somewhere… the description of the woman with Cammie's eyes. This could be the key—to everything.

The past few weeks Josh had been tiptoeing around clues—vague comments made by Cammie's ex-schoolmates, Rebecca, Liz, and Macey—and he was close to a breakthrough. There was only one little thing missing… He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"But it's kind of import-"

"YES!" Josh almost yelled, despite the lateness of the hour. "Found it."

Nell sighed. "Never mind." As quietly as a slithering snake, Nell crept out of the men's barracks back into her own room.

Josh barely noticed. "Who could this be?" Josh murmured to himself—and then something hit him.

_Cammie had stood, staring at him. "But I'll be back."_

_ Josh remembered being so angry at her, for her lies—but he knew he would inevitably find his way back to her, someday. "Okay." He sighed, and allowed himself the slightest of smiles, "I guess I'll see you around."_

_ He remembered turning toward those big grand doors to leave, "Oh, tell your mom thanks for the tea."_

Of course. It made absolute sense. Those eyes—that hair, that smile, the way she walked—it was obvious. Surely, that woman was not Cameron Morgan. But it was the next best thing.

Her mother.

_P2_

Josh tapped his knuckles lightly on a door that read "RACHEL SOLOMON. HEAD OF OPERATIVE DEVELOPMENT", and took a deep breath. "Excuse me? Mrs. Solomon? May I have a word?"

There was some surprised shuffling inside before anyone responded. "Depends on who's asking…"

"It's Joshua Abrams, miss," he responded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm with the CST program."

A moment of silence occurred before Josh heard her utter a reluctant "come in, then."

Josh clutched his journal in his hands so tightly; his knuckles began to turn white.

"What can I do for you, young man?" Rachel asked, her fingers sifting through a monotonous pile of manila envelopes.

He cleared his throat and took a seat. "Do you remember me?"

This question seemed to startle Rachel. She froze, her hands submerged in the filing cabinet. "What kind of question is that?" she asked roughly, turning to face him. "I'm a busy woman, Josh, and I don't have time for-"

"Where's your daughter?"

That question shut her up. She looked utterly speechless as she collapsed into her office chair. "_The_ Josh. Cammie's boyfriend from high school." Rachel shook her head back and forth. "This is unbelievable."

He placed his journal on the desk. "And I remember everything."

Rachel hesitantly reached across the table and picked up the journal, thumbing through it. "What is it that you want me to say, Josh?"

Josh glanced up at her office walls. They were white, bland, empty—impersonal. "Tell me where she is."

She handed his journal back to him, and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked exhausted. "I wish I knew."

"What do you mean?" He asked immediately, the confusion evident on his face. This hadn't been the answer he was expecting.

"I mean she's been gone for a long time, Josh. You're not the only one missing her. There's only so much I can tell you. Your clearance isn't high enough."

Josh tried his hardest not to get angry, he really did. But when he slammed his journal down on the desk and stood to his feet, he knew he had failed. "Really. That's _all_ you can give me? 'She's been gone for a long time'?"

Rachel shrugged in response. "Sorry, kiddo."

He took a seat again. He wasn't giving up just yet. "I'm sure Zach would know something."

Rachel laughed. _Hard_. "Don't kid yourself, son. I've been in the business for a long time. There's no conning me. Plus, Zachary Goode is _not_ that imposter you see in training every day. No one has had a glimpse of the _real_ Zachary Goode in a _long_ time." Rachel's drowsy eyes looked towards her water bottle, and lethargically reached for a drink.

The anger he had felt now turned to desperation. "_Please_, Mrs. Solomon. I just want some closure. It's been such a long time, and to now be so close to what I had known for that one day-"

Rachel held her hand up, signaling for him to stop talking. "Okay. I'll tell you what I can." She stood up from her chair and came closer to him, leaning against her desk. Her voice fell to a whisper. "It was one week until graduation. Cammie had been, well, let's just say a little out of it, due to current events that I'm not at liberty to discuss. Zach Goode had been off the radar for some time. It was under my impression that the two were still keeping contact-" Rachel sighed, "but I could be wrong. Everything was so gray with her. She had gotten exceptionally good at her craft—hiding… So good, in fact, it became difficult to keep track of her—the best, most experienced spies in the world could not keep her tailed to save their own lives—and I found that she was distancing herself from _everyone_, including me. Half the time, she wasn't even on campus. Chasing clues around the globe, she had gone almost completely rogue. She was possessed with a mission that, again, I'm not at liberty to discuss. Not even her own friends had the slightest clue as to what was going on in her head. And trust me, we all tried to find out—but she was determined. The only person she would confide in was Zach, and when he disappeared…"

"She followed him?" Josh guessed, absolutely enthralled. This had been torturing him for months, and here the story was, laid right out in front of him—detailed, elaborate.

Rachel shook her head. "Even worse. It broke her heart. The smallest piece of her that was tied to the town of Roseville, Virginia had been severed—and she would go months without returning to campus. One day, she came into my office—a gesture that surprised the hell out of me—and told me she loved me. It was the last day anyone ever saw her again. She is virtually untraceable—she has no set face, name, or language—and believe me, I've tried every method in the book to find her. But she's gone, literally faded away into nothing." Rachel shrugged. "There's a reason they call her the Chameleon."

Josh's brain was reeling. So she was nowhere to be found. "Do you think they're together?"

Rachel looked stunned. "Who, her and Zach? No, certainly not. You could see it in Cammie's eyes—she was never going to forgive him for leaving, and she certainly would never try and bring him back."

Josh gingerly lifted his journal off the table. His clues and discoveries seemed extremely petty now—he had felt so close, but he had never been so far away. "Is that it?"

Rachel gave him a small half-smile. "That's it, kid. I'm sorry; I know you wanted to see her again."

Josh shrugged, as if life would go on. "Well, I suppose people don't always get what they want."

Rachel patted him on the shoulder. "No, I suppose they don't." She sat up and headed back to her filing cabinet. "Let it go, Josh."

Despite Josh's every instinct that wanted to stay in that room—pry for more information—he knew he couldn't. He went looking for answers, and he had found them. There was only one problem.

He _couldn't_ let it go.

Rachel had said she didn't have a language—but Josh spoke it fluently. Rachel had said she didn't have a name—but Josh had it engraved in his brain. And, finally, Rachel Solomon had claimed Cameron Morgan did not have a face—but Josh knew that face like no other, and he would not soon forget it.

He would keep looking.

_P3_

The Central Intelligence Agency was a notorious organization for tearing relationships apart. And, in Josh's opinion, it was working its magic on his, with the most wonderful woman in the world.

"Where are you going?" Josh asked. Nell was treating him like a stranger.

"Oh, just out."

Josh scoffed, laying his journal on the coffee table. The Farm had dismissed them for a week-long break, so Nell and Josh had returned to their apartment. "Just _out_? What's up with you?"

Nell roughly grabbed her scarf and threw it around her neck. "And you care _because_?"

He stood up and walked to her, a determined look engraved on his face. "Because you're my fiancée and I love you."

Nell's hardened expression seemed to falter at these words. "Oh, so _now_ you love me. Sorry, I thought you were too busy making out with your journal."

And then it hit him—Nell felt neglected, unappreciated, unwanted. "Oh, babe, I'm sorry. I know I've been occupied with finding my stepsister" —this was the lie Josh had concocted to explain his fascination with Cameron Morgan— "but that doesn't mean I don't want you here with me!"

Nell's cheeks were now flushed. "It's just you changed so quickly—from that guy in the hammock—to this… CIA spook… before me who's obsessed with the past."

Josh reached out to stroke her hair, his eyes full of love. "I know I've changed. I'm sorry. I'm still that same guy who loves you more than anything in the world…." Nell's green eyes were bright with hope and love when Josh said this. "You just need to trust me a little bit more. I'm getting really close to a breakthrough, I swear."

Something in her expression changed. It was cold as ice again. "I understand, hon. But you need to trust me, too. When I say I'm just _going out_, then I'm just _going out_."

He sighed. "Okay. Go."

Without another word, Nell turned on her heels and walked out the front door.

_P4_

Rachel had claimed Cameron Morgan had not been sighted for almost five years.

So it was amazing to Josh that he had seen that exact woman, smirking at him, at his own college graduation. It seemed almost _silly_ to believe that it had really been her. After all, Josh was a trainee—an _amateur_. Certainly he couldn't have made one of the best operatives in the world.

But yet, there it was—that one dangling piece of evidence that led Josh to believe that Cammie was looking for him, too.

The only difference was that _she_ had actually found him. Josh sat around with his silly journal, with nothing but Rachel Solomon's story to go on, and Cameron Morgan probably had every photograph, every family member, and every address he had ever lived at, on file.

"_Please_ tell me the reason I see Nell at Jake's Grill every night is because she's hungry," Harrison said to him, plopping down on the couch. Josh hadn't seen Harrison since graduation.

"It's nice to see you too."

Harrison chuckled. "Yeah, whatever, bro. What's going on with you guys? I thought you were doing the marriage thing."

Josh shrugged, yanking on some loose pieces of string in the couch follicles. "We're having a bit of a… rough patch."

Harrison punched him in the shoulder. "_Dude_. What did you _do_?"

Josh's mind kept wandering to Cammie—that's when he realized—that was the problem. "My mind's been somewhere else. She thinks I'm ignoring her."

Harrison shrugged. "_Gee_, why in the _world_ would she think that?" Harrison wondered, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Really don't need your sarcasm right now, Harrison."

"Fine, then." Harrison stood up and faced him. "Well, you need to hear this from _someone_ before you fuck everything up. Nell's been hanging out with some guy at the bar a lot—no, I don't know who he is, and I don't really think it matters—but she's definitely starting to look for attention elsewhere." Harrison put his hands in his pockets and swayed on his toes. "You better take care of this before you lose her, bro. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Josh felt a pang in his chest, and he felt his resolve crumble. "I know."

_P5_

He could fix this.

It would just take a little romance, a little wooing, but Nell and Josh would be back to normal before the sun would set tonight.

At least that's what Josh told himself. "Everything's perfect," he murmured, partly to himself, partly to Harrison. "You think she'll like it?"

Harrison smirked at him. "If she doesn't, she _definitely_ should not be your fiancée."

Josh gave him a look.

He shrugged. "Hey, I'll take her off your hands anytime. She's a Class A hottie." Before Josh had a chance to respond, Harrison tossed him a bottle of champagne. "You'll need that, if things go well." Josh took a look at the bottle's label as Harrison took a peek at his cell phone screen. "But hey, bro, I have to get outta here. Good luck, though."

Josh waved half-heartedly at Harrison as he walked out to his car. Josh was too worried about his future marriage to hold a proper conversation.

Josh couldn't help but relate his difficult situation to Cammie. He hadn't seen her in years, and she was _still_ ruining his relationships.

Josh shook his head back and forth. Cammie was not going to squeeze her way into his thoughts again—not tonight, at least.

The park was perfectly isolated—at this time of night, no one would be there—and Nell seemed to be in a good mood this morning. A nice dinner, a confession, a kiss, could fix everything.

Or so he thought.

When Nell walked up to him, looking strikingly beautiful in the moonlight, Josh couldn't help but grin like a madman. She _was_ his fiancée, after all. He couldn't be luckier. "Hey."

Nell half-smiled at him. "Hey too you, too." She laid her purse on the chair. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we could use a special night," Josh answered, holding her chair out for her.

Nell took a seat, looking happier by the second. This would be a piece of cake.

"I brought you your favorite," he said, handing her wooden box full of her favorite kind of sushi.

Nell accepted the food anxiously. "Aw, thank you!" She opened it and dug in.

Their dialogue sounded forced, too polite. At least, Josh thought so. He needed to kick it up a notch. "I can't believe I got so lucky. To be here with you," Josh whispered, scooting his chair closer to her. "I take advantage of you, you know."

Nell tried to smile at him, but her mouth was full of rice and raw fish.

"I remember a time when there was nothing I thought about but you," he continued. "And then the CIA happened. I lost track of what's important. You."

Nell swallowed her food, looking at him. Her expression was strange. "Josh-"

"I understand you're mad at me, and you want to give up on this relationship, but-"

"Josh!" Nell said again, this time more loudly. "Let me talk."

He nodded sheepishly. "Sorry."

She laid down her fork, and turned to face him, her expression one hundred percent serious. "Joshua Abrams, I love you very much. Let there be no doubt about that." She placed her hand on his. "But there is one problem. We're both very distracted right now."

Josh looked horrified as Nell reached for her finger and pulled off that beautiful ring. That ring that was going to represent their lifelong union.

"I'm not saying this is the end," Nell continued again, placing the ring in his hands. "But it's time for us to take a break. I think we could both use a little time away from each other."

"I don't want to be away from you!" Josh protested. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Nell's smile was bittersweet. "I know you say that, but _look_ at yourself. I know this is the most clichéd expression in the history of the universe, but actions speak louder than words. And your _actions_ tell me you need to focus on finding your stepsister right now. I know it's important to you." The words came out in a flurry, and Josh could hardly keep his head straight. "And I understand," she continued. She was being so… calm, collected… about all of this.

"Is it someone else?" Josh asked, his voice cracking.

Nell looked surprised. "_Of course not_. You're the only one for me."

Josh held her hand. "Then stay. We can work through whatever problems you think we're having right now!"

Nell sighed. "Trust me. This is best." Without another word, so calm, so collected, so hardened, Nell stood up and grabbed her purse. "I'll see you at home. I'm going to live with a friend until we work this all out."

Josh sat, dumbstruck. And here he thought this one dinner would fix a world of problems.

All he could do was watch her—watch her legs, her torso, and her thick head of hair— walking away from him, through the green grass of the park, around a constellation of pine trees, watch her walk until she was out of sight.

Never once did she look back.

**Well, I don't like to toot my own horn, I'm quite proud if I do say so myself. I added a lot of drama in this chapter for you guys and made it a little longer, so I'm expecting double reviews! :P But no, any reviews are appreciated. Thank you all so much for your support, and I'm really glad you're enjoying this story!**

**Please, review, review, review! :D**


	6. Conflicted

**Soooo, I had ten reviews in like, four seconds, so I figured you all deserved another chapter right away! :] And I know you're all ready to feed me to the dogs for waiting so long to give you guys some Zammie. Haha. So, here's chapter six, and I think you're all going to be very happy with this chapter! :P**

"_When love is not madness, it is not love." –Pedro Calderon de la Barca_

**Chapter Six: Conflicted**

_P1_

If there was one thing Zachary Goode remembered about Cammie "The Chameleon" Morgan, it was that she was not one to be easily found. That's why this recent discovery was so puzzling.

"What's she _doing_?" Zach asked, more than a little confused.

Marina tilted her head at the tiny security screen, just as perplexed as Zach was. She took a sip of her blueberry Icee. "I have no idea. But let me tell you, the position _can't_ be very comfortable."

"Should I go… talk to her?" Zach asked, unsure. He had spent months pining after Cammie, and now that she was here, dangling herself in front of him, he couldn't help but be hesitant.

"For God's sake, man, look at her!" Marina exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Some of her slushy splashed him on the arm. "If you don't get her off our roof _immediately_ the CIA will be at our doorstep!"

Zach nodded, as if it had been obvious. "Of course. I'll go… get her…" Even as Zach spoke these words, he stayed frozen, staring at the image on the screen.

Marina punched him in the arm. "_Go_!"

If there was one thing Zach had never experienced, it was anxiety. That's why it seemed strange to him when his heartbeat increased; after all, he hadn't been doing any cardiovascular exercise. It seemed almost as if he were dying when his legs grew weak. And lastly, he felt absolutely disgusting when he broke into a cold sweat.

But it would be the end of him before he let Cammie know all this. He took a few deep breaths, dabbed his forehead with a paper towel, and set out for the roof.

The trek up the staircase seemed to last a lifetime. With each step of his foot, there were flashes.

Step. Her smile. Step. Her laugh. Step. That moment. Step. Step. Step. Step. STEP.

Finally, Zach reached the top of the stairs. He couldn't help but break into a run towards the door. It had been a long time—too long.

As soon as the sunlight traveled to the back of his retinas, he was grinning at that woman. Was it really her?

_Oh, it was her_, he thought, seeing the hardened expression on her face. She walked toward him, determined.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Zachary Goode was a still a man. And when a man saw an attractive woman, well, he looked—especially when that woman looked like Cameron Morgan. She had filled out in all the right places. Her ripped, frayed, dirt-covered jeans outlined shapely legs. And her face was… beautiful.

"Cammie?"

Zach felt a blow to his gut when she didn't acknowledge his _personal_ existence. "I have need of your services."

Zach sighed. She looked a lot more toned than he remembered, and her aura exuded intensity. "Nice to see you too, Gallagher Girl."

She sneered at him. Her face looked so different. Something about it just looked… hard. Ice cold. "Please, don't call me that. Now, can we get down to business?"

"It's company policy to run a thorough background check before accepting any-"

Cammie shrugged. "We both know I don't really exist in the real world, so there's no use in checking my background."

Zach smiled at her. She was back. "Touché."

Cammie didn't wait for a response. She walked right past him towards the door. Her hand lay on the titanium knob, and she turned over her shoulder to look at him. "Either you take me to her, or I go by myself. Your choice."

"Well, then. Time for the grand tour."

_P2_

Cammie sauntered into Marina's office, looking extremely out of place in her getup: A black t-shirt, dirty jeans, a small leather bag over her shoulder, and boots. Yet, Zachary Goode noticed, it didn't faze her one bit.

"Let's not waste each other's time, shall we?" Cammie said, her eyes focused on Marina. "You know who I am, I know who you are. Are we okay with this?"

Marina crossed her arms across her chest and nodded. Zach took a seat on the couch.

"With that being said, I have a business proposition for you." Cammie reached into her bag, and Marina's hand immediately flew to her side, a pistol anxiously awaiting her. One could never be too careful. But, as Zach had suspected, Cammie had not pulled out a lethal weapon, but rather, a manila file. Cammie traveled the length of the room and handed the file to Marina. "His name is Ahmad Armanjani, and he works for Indian intelligence. The story behind this guy his trading of dangerous information to arms dealers working out of Pakistan—a dangerous terrorist state. He needs to be stopped. Simple as that." Cammie placed her hand on her hip.

The corner of Marina's mouth curled up into a smile as she flipped through the file. "And by stopped, you mean-"

"Death." Cammie finished for her.

Marina threw the file onto her desk. "You're a skilled pavement artist. Why not do it yourself? You could certainly get away with it."

Cammie shrugged. "I'm off the radar, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Marina almost chuckled. "And you think we _are_ 'on the radar'?" She gestured to herself and Zach. "Let me break this down for you, sweetie. We get paid _a lot_ of money to do very bad things to very bad people. How much we talking?"

Cammie looked annoyed. "Uh, _sweetie_, don't worry about the money. I'm sure you'll be quite satisfied with what I'm offering." Cammie reached inside her bag, this time with a Palm Pilot. "At the time of his death," she began, tapping a few things on the screen, "A deposit of this amount will be transferred via wiretap into any account of your liking."

Once Marina got a look at the screen, her eyes widened. "Are you for real? A million dollars for one target?"

Cammie threw the device back into her bag. "Well, there's a little catch. He's not exactly the easiest target in the world-"

Marina waved this off with a flick of her wrist. "Oh, trust me; Zach could kill any target in the world with his eyes closed."

Cammie glanced back at him. There was something in her eyes when she said, "I know."

Zach crinkled his eyebrows together, "Hey, what's that supposed to-"

"Zach," Marina's tone was strict. "Not the time."

He rolled his eyes and plopped back down on the couch. He felt like Marina's bitch.

"Where is this guy right now?" Marina asked, her slushy nearing empty as she slurped the last bit.

Cammie tossed Marina yet another device, this one a tracking system. "It's tailing him. Looks like he's somewhere in Egypt."

"You _bugged_ him?" Marina asked, shocked.

Cammie shrugged. "_Sort of_, if injecting a tracker into the sole of his foot while he was sedated counts as bugging."

Marina chuckled. "I'm impressed, kid." She put the device in her pocket and looked at Zach. "You up for it?"

Cammie turned around to look at him. Zach met her gaze evenly. He never broke eye contact. "Bring it on."

_P3_

"I can't believe we're doing this." Nell stared out of the plane, her gear all ready to go.

Zach laughed. "It was _your_ idea." Little did Nell know that Zach had jumped out of planes many times. It wasn't _that_ big of a deal for him.

She nibbled on her nails nervously. "Yeah, I know. It was stupid." She began to sweat. "I can't-"

Zach put his hands on her shoulders. "Nell, you've been trained for this, and I'll be right underneath you to catch you if your parachute fails."

Nell rolled her eyes. "We both know that won't do any good."

Zach shrugged. "So I'll die trying."

Nell had a strange look on her face. "Okay."

Zach smiled at her. "Okay. I'll go first." Without another thought, Zach jumped out of the plane. The wind resistance made him feel like he was flying. He smiled. Plane jumps were always the best.

It didn't take long before Zach launched his parachute and was floating safely to the ground. Now it was time to wait for Nell.

He would have to tell her soon—that he was leaving. To go kill someone.

Of course, he wouldn't tell her _that_. He'd… make something up.

Although, Zach realized something strange: he was actually going to _miss_ her when he was gone. Zach had never missed anyone in his life… except Cammie, of course.

Zach looked up at the clear blue sky, seeing a tiny dot—it was Nell, of course—falling towards him.

She pulled her parachute right on time, just like Zach knew she would, and fell safely to the ground. She threw off her gear, a smile on her face. She ran towards him and flung herself into his arms.

"Oh my God! Amazing!" She pulled away from him, hardly containing her excitement. "I can't believe we did that!"

Zach grinned at her. "Exciting, huh?" It was hard to not feel happy when Nell was around. She was such a joyful person.

Nell looked up at the sky. "Better than exciting. It was life-changing." She looked him in the eyes. Something looked different about her. "I left Josh," she whispered suddenly.

Zach widened his eyes at her. Her thick black hair framed her face beautifully. "Why?"

Nell shrugged, cuddling under his arm as they walked back toward the base. "It didn't feel right to be with him when I was…" she cleared her throat and glanced up at him, "getting to know someone else."

Zach nodded in understanding. "I see. Is that what we're doing, then?"

Nell stopped short, not quite knowing how to answer. "What do you mean?"

"Getting to know each other. Is that all we're doing?" Zach asked again, almost afraid to hear the answer.

He was leaving. He shouldn't do this to her. Yet, he couldn't help himself.

Nell took a few steps towards him and her voice fell to a whisper. Her green eyes were full of confusion. "I still love him, Xander."

Zach brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "I know." Zach took a few steps closer. He couldn't help himself.

He found his hand wrapped around her neck. But ultimately, it was Nell who closed the distance between their lips.

As soon as it happened, it was over. Nell pulled away. She looked dazed. "I- I'm confused…"

Zach shook his head, feeling a little light-headed. "No, I crossed the line-"

Nell closed her eyes and brought him closer again. She hesitated, but it was obvious. She was hooked. "You should cross it more often."

_P4_

It was a week until Cameron Morgan and Zachary Goode would depart for Egypt. They were still in the planning stage, mapping routes, transportation, and hotel prices, but nonetheless it was all happening _very_ quickly. He still hadn't told Nell a thing.

"So, I figure we'll snake through the pass here, and intercept him in Cairo." Cammie was pointing to various checkpoints on a map, but Zach had a hard time paying any attention. To anything.

"Why not just get him before he crosses the border?" Zach countered, looking Cammie in the eye. She had changed so much, yet she still seemed the same.

Cammie rolled her eyes, as if she were talking to a six-year-old. She had obviously grown very bitter. "_Because_ he'll be expecting that."

Zachary Goode remembered a time that he could outsmart Cameron Morgan in his sleep. Everything she did was predictable. Now he would be lucky to-

"Are you listening to me?" Cammie sighed. "This is important, Zach."

Zach leaned back on his elbows. "Ah, so _now_ you know my name."

Cammie folded the map up and laid it on her lap. Her eyes looked exhausted. For a second, she looked like that vulnerable girl that he had left inside that plane, by herself, with nothing but her resolve to get her through."What do you want me to say?"

Zach shrugged. "I don't know. I figured after five years you would greet me with a little less hostility."

Cammie raised an eyebrow. "If you think _this_ is hostile, you don't know the half of it."

Zach looked her in the eye. "Okay. Fine. Give me the file. I'll figure it all out."

Cammie looked a little surprised. "Okay…" she handed him the file and stood up. Her shirt a ridden up a bit, and Zach noted with satisfaction, she had some _very_ nice abdominals. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."

Zach gave her a nod. "Whatever you say, Gallagher Girl."

Without another word, Cammie turned on her heels and walked away. There was something very different about her—besides her anger, of course—and Zach couldn't quite put his finger on it.

All he knew was… he kind of liked it.

_P5_

"He won't stop calling, texting, e-mailing…" Nell shook her head. "It's almost pitiful how upset he is."

Zach scooted his chair towards her. "Do you think you'll go back?"

Nell seemed to contemplate this for a moment. "Yeah, probably. Some day." But when Nell saw the look on Zach's face, she added, "But that doesn't mean I don't… like you. I mean, I think we-"

Zach chuckled, and held his hand up for her to stop talking. "No, I totally know what you mean. There was something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

Nell sat up straighter in her seat, and laid her chopsticks next to her plate. "Okay, shoot."

Zach took a deep breath. "Chances are you're going to be angry at me for telling you about this so late, but better now than later." Zach fiddled with a piece of rice. "I- I have a situation with my job. There's this exhibit in Egypt, and they want to send me there to perfect it…" Zach paused to see her reaction. Nell's eyebrows were raised, as if she were waiting for more information. "And… I might be gone for… a while."

Nell's expression was virtually unreadable. "How long is a while?"  
>Zach shrugged. "I don't know. It could be two months, it could be two years. It just depends on how crazy that exhibit is." He looked her in the eye. "And I'm leaving in a week."<p>

She scooted her chair next to his. "Xander," she laid her hand on his, "I understand. Thank you for telling me. I'm not angry or anything, I just…" she paused, as if she couldn't quite make the words. "I just feel like this was barely getting started."

It was a bittersweet feeling, what Zach was experiencing. "When we get back, we can always-"

Nell held her hand up. "No, let's not make plans. What I loved so much about our relationship was how spontaneous it was. Let's keep it that way."

Zach pulled her face towards his. "No problem." A sweet, sweet kiss.

Nell may not be Zach's soul mate, but she had brought to him what no one else in the world had been able to: a feeling that things might get better. Cameron Morgan wasn't the only woman for him.

They pulled away from each other, grinning.

"Thank you," Nell whispered, her forehead close to his. "I'll never forget what you did for me."

Zach stroked her hair. "What did I do?"

Nell's eyes twinkled as they looked into his. "You showed me strength… to do what I never thought I could."

And that, Zach realized, was the best parting he could have possibly had with the beautiful Nell Duvall. He would not likely be seeing her again.

Or so he thought.

**Thereeeee ya go! I brought Cammie back and got rid of Nell! I'm sure you're all ecstatic! :P Pleaseeee read and review! :D**


	7. The Adventures of Isolation

**I'm glad Cammie's presence is bringing positive reviews! :D From now on, there will be much more Cammie involved in this story. I swear!**

**Oh, random question, if anyone wants to answer this in their review. Do you think Ally Carter ever reads fanfictions for GG or Heist Society? Like, I was sitting here thinking what Ally Carter would think of my story, and I was just having a "what if?" moment. Haha. BUT ANYWAY. Chapter Seven ****está aquí****! :D**

"_Sometimes you have to let go to see if there was anything worth holding onto." –Anonymous_

**Chapter Seven: The Adventures of Isolation**

_P1_

Josh overlooked the beauty of the skyscraping mountain peaks, the colorful rocks, and clear blue skies. He was too focused.

"Deep breaths," he murmured, his legs pumping furiously, launching himself over rocks, shrubbery, and dirt. He had left his training class back far in his midst. "Almost there."

The burn, the sweat, the challenge exhilarated him. Before he knew it, he was at the top, almost a full five minutes early.

The small cluster of his trainers looked surprised. "Look, it's Joshy!" Bex called out, a few strides away. He accent was thick through the humid air of Washington, D.C.

Macey paid him little attention; Liz looked quite nervous balancing atop a rock; and, finally, the Zach-imposter wore his sunglasses, his aura exuding _cool_.

"Where's the rest of the group, kid?" Macey asked, squinting into the sunlight.

Josh shrugged, wiping the sweat off his brow. He had hardly lost his breath, but nonetheless, the hike up the mountain had been grueling for all CSTs. "Let's just say they fell behind."

A smirk came across Bex's face. "I'm impressed, trainee. What's brought on your surge of empowerment?" She tossed him the reward for finishing first: a Capri Sun.

Josh grinned at the juice drink and jammed in the straw. "I'm not distracted anymore."

It was true. Josh had little to think about now that Nell had left him and the quest for Cammie had hit a dead-end. Despite his efforts to win Nell back, she had seemed set on the whole "we're going to take time apart" thing, and no matter how hard he tried, Cammie's mother and ex-classmates would not give him any additional information on her whereabouts, either.

"Not bad for a newbie," the Zach-imposter inserted, sounding extremely similar to the _real_ Zach he had met almost five years ago. It was hard to believe it wasn't _really…_ him.

Josh accepted the compliments from his trainers graciously, but what he was really waiting for was to see when Nell would arrive—ahead of the pack or behind it.

"But as I was _saying_ before Mr. McSpeedy showed up," Liz inserted, looking like she was about to topple off the cliff, "I really think she's just searching for her dad. Don't you think that's what Cam-"

Josh's eyes widened as he looked to Liz, but she didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, because Bex interrupted her.

"Oh, would you look at that! The rest of the trainees are starting to come in. You can _shut up now_, Liz." Bex's glare was subtle.

A sudden buzzing of a helicopter interrupted their conversation. Their ride was here.

But something about the passenger-sized helicopter didn't seem right; there would only be room in that helicopter for one other person, which obviously was not enough to transport all the trainees back to The Farm.

And when the helicopter landed and requested Josh's personal presence as the pilot's plus one, he knew something was seriously wrong. Even when he climbed inside that lush helicopter and was offered a drink, he still could not be put at ease.

Because, Josh knew, the CIA did not send special helicopters for _trainees_ unless they had done something very wrong.

Or something very _right_.

_P2_

An interrogation room. Empty, gray, and intimidating. Josh had learned all about the purpose of these rooms in training: through that one way glass, several agents, investigators, and coworkers were examining his every move. Every time he blinked, twitched a finger, or scratched his neck, it all had a meaning to them.

Of course, Josh might have been a little more nervous if he believed they actually had probable cause for _putting_ him there.

A woman, in her late forties, entered the interrogation room, holding a cup of coffee. "Well, well. Joshua Abrams, CST trainee. Welcome to the _real_ CIA." The woman took a sip of her coffee as she took a seat across from him. "Well, I don't want to waste your time, and you don't want to waste mine. So let's get down to the dirty work, shall we?" The woman laid her ceramic coffee cup on the table as she pulled out a file, seemingly from nowhere. She laid it in front of him. "Are you in acquaintance with a young woman by the name of Cameron Morgan?" she asked, flipping to the first page, which displayed Cammie's photo from her CIA name badge.

Josh was shocked. He hadn't been expecting this at all. "Uh, well, I was…"

The woman looked him calmly in the eye as she laid her palms on the table. "It was a yes or no question, sir."

Josh cleared his throat. "Yes."

"Is it true that you were allowed inside The Gallagher Academy and were informed of its real purposes at age sixteen?" The woman asked next, flipping to the second page, which displayed a photo of the Gallagher Academy.

"Yes," Josh responded, "but they gave me some kind of memory-erasing tea, and I didn't remember anything for years."

"I see," the woman responded, as if she had already known this. "And what triggered your recollection of these events?"

Josh shrugged, looking uncomfortably at the woman as she reached into her pocket. She pulled out a bottle of aspirin and popped some in her mouth. She chewed them, dry. "I guess it was probably me joining the CST program. That's about when I started having the dreams."

The woman nodded in understanding. "And is it true that you have been trying to reinitiate contact with Cameron Morgan?"

Josh sighed and rubbed his knees awkwardly. "Well, yes. But then I learned that she has been missing for several years now, and since then I have more or less given up."

The woman almost smiled as she flipped to the next page. "Well, young man, she isn't missing anymore." On the next page was a photograph of none other than Cammie, standing on a roof with a black-haired boy that looked like-

"Can you identify this woman as Cameron Morgan?" the woman asked next, coughing into her sleeve.

Josh nodded. "Yes, that's her. And the person next to her, I'm pretty sure his name is Zachary Goode." Josh looked into the woman's eyes and leaned closer. "The _real_ one."

She raised a well-plucked eyebrow at him. "_Really_. How do you know of Zachary Goode?"

Josh shrugged. "I met him in Roseville, Virginia one day when he was with Cammie."

The woman was silent for a moment as she thought this over. She took the last few swigs of her coffee and popped another aspirin. "As you know, Mr. Abrams, the CIA has many operatives much more qualified than yourself, all of whom were acquainted with Cameron Morgan. We retrieved _you_ for a very specific reason." The woman pulled the file over to her side of the table and flipped through it. "When we took a look at Georgetown University's security cameras, we found this image that had been captured at your graduation." The woman handed Josh a grainy photo of Cammie, smirking.

He _knew_ he hadn't been seeing things!

"As you can see, she came to see you the night of your graduation. Cameron Morgan has not been sighted within this country's borders for five years now." The woman sighed and closed the folder. "And until this morning, she had all but disappeared. Something about _you_ has brought her back."

Josh didn't know what to say.

"The CIA has need of simply… you. There will be times when we must use you as a form of bait to lure her back to headquarters. She's an extremely dangerous asset gone rogue, Josh." The woman looked almost scared as she laid her hands back on the table. "All we need for you to do is… say yes."

_P3_

There was nothing but the headlights, for miles.

He was stuck. Cammie was out there, with Zach, and there was nothing he could do to find her.

Why did he care, anyway? She hadn't meant much to him romantically; after all, everything he had ever known about her had been a lie. So why was this torturing him? He was letting it tear his life apart. He had lost the love of his life.

He thought about Nell, driving down that empty highway. In a normal universe, she would have been in the passenger's seat with him, for better or worse. But that was _before_…

Josh turned off the highway, getting very close to his destination.

"Clear your head," he murmured to himself, taking deep breaths. "Focus."

If there was one thing Josh was learning in these past few months as a CST trainee, it was that you could never back down from your gut instinct. And when that woman inside the interrogation room had asked Josh to work as "bait," his gut told him to say no.

And that's what he did.

It was strange, but somehow Josh saw that as taking the easy way out. He would be an object, not the subject, of the mission, and something about that didn't sit right with Joshua Abrams.

Maybe that was why he found himself taking the four-hour drive to Roseville in the middle of the night, because Josh certainly wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got there.

But there was one thing he _did_ know: this was the end of the road for him, both literally and figuratively. If he didn't find anything at the Gallagher Academy this time around, he would not be looking again.

It was about time he stopped letting the past run his future.

_P4_

Sweat. It seeped from every pore in his body, but that didn't stop him from trying to disengage one of the most sensitive alarm systems that had ever been installed on a non-governmental facility (_Well, technically_, he thought, _it _was_ a government facility_).

Josh was lucky that most of the security features that had been in place at the Gallagher Academy had long ago broken or worn out; all that was left was the front gate and a few heat sensors.

It took him about an hour to disengage the front alarm; it was something that would have went a lot more quickly if he wasn't so damn _nervous_. His shaking fingers, his dripping sweat, his heaving breaths, all could have set off an alert, and within a matter of seconds he could have been booked for trespassing on private property.

But none of that happened. Josh had disconnected the alarm successfully, and he was almost shocked that nothing had gone wrong. After all, he was training for a career that would involve disengaging _a lot_ of alarms, and it seemed almost like a Kodak moment that he had cracked his first one. And it was at the _Gallagher Academy_, no less.

It was a thrill: a rush of adrenaline and endorphins all in one. Josh scurried across the over-grown lawn until he cautiously approached the heat sensors. In training he had learned the best way to avoid these little buggers was to wear rubber soles, because they didn't conduct heat. Since the weight-triggers had long ago broken down, he was set to walk across.

Josh almost couldn't believe he had succeeded in breaking into the Gallagher Academy until he walked in the front doors. Everything came back to him, those few precious memories he had lost so many years ago.

Gillian's sword, Rachel's office which was upstairs, the spot where his mother had given him that tea… But what he saw inside he did not expect at all. He was not alone in this giant mansion.

He widened his eyes at the man standing at the top of the stairs, a man with dark hair, green eyes, and a muscular build. But what Josh noticed most was the gun pointed down at him. "Hello, Josh."

Zachary Goode, the _real_ one, traced his gun down the banister as he made his way down the stairs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed, Joshy." The shiny pistol was drooping enough in Zach's hand that Josh knew right away: it was loaded.

"I- I didn't know-"

Zach interrupted him. "Oh, I know you didn't expect anyone to be here." He smiled, the gun never straying from its target. "But I couldn't have anyone snooping around here, especially not anyone who is looking for Cammie." Zach tilted his head. "Now, that's what you're doing, isn't it, _Josh_?" Zach reached the bottom of the stairs and took a few, slow, lazy steps toward him. "Looking for Cammie?"

Josh heard his own heartbeat inside his head. "Well-"

"No need to answer," Zach hissed, "because I already know. And it's okay." He took even more steps towards him until the gun was pressed against his forehead. "You're playing with fire, Josh. You need to leave this alone. She's fine. Turn around, leave this place and never come back." Zach's eyes almost looked sad as he commanded him.

Josh knew one thing about hostile situations that involved guns: do as the gunman says. He didn't need his training to tell him that. "Okay, I'll go." Josh turned to leave. He couldn't believe his luck. _Zachary Goode was here_. What were the chances?

And that's when it hit him. Zach and Cammie were together. _She had to be here_! "Wait," Josh turned around slowly, his hands in the air to show that he was not a threat, "I have information that might be of use to you." It was risky, betraying the CIA's confidential information, but he wanted to see Cammie, _needed_ to see her, in fact.

Zach quickly glanced up the stairs before he turned to him and scoffed. "What information could _you_ possibly have?"

Josh swallowed the lump in his throat. His heart was beating so quickly he thought it might explode. "The CIA has spotted you. And Cammie."

Zach's expression remained stony, but he seemed to be listening. "Continue."

Josh took a deep breath, his hands still in the air. That gun terrified him. Or maybe it was just the man _holding_ the gun. Something in his eyes showed that he wasn't afraid to pull the trigger. "It was on a rooftop… a photo they showed me of you and her, talking. Somewhere here in Virginia, I think. They showed me security camera footage of Cammie at my graduation, too." Josh knew he was blabbering, but he couldn't stop himself. "They didn't tell me everything. All they know is that you're _here_. In the country, and-"

Zach's eyes widened and he called up the stairs. "Code Red. I repeat. CODE RED." Before Josh knew what was happening, Zach grabbed his arm. "You're coming with us."

Suddenly, Zach hit him atop the head with the back of his gun.

Everything went black.

_P5_

"Well, damn," a woman Josh didn't recognize said. "What are we supposed to do with him?"

Josh's head hurt like a bitch, but he kept his eyes closed, pretending to still be unconscious.

"Well, shoot him I suppose," another voice inserted, and Josh heard the click of someone loading a gun.

"_Stop_!" A different female voice rung out. It was Cammie's! "I mean, you can't shoot him. He _works_ for the CIA, after all."

"Well, we can't just leave him here," Zach echoed next. "Our plane leaves in less than two hours, and I swear, Cammie, if we miss our flight-"

"This is _your_ fault!" Cammie exclaimed, and Josh heard the stomping of footsteps. "You're the one who stuck the gun in his face!"

"_You're_ the one who camped out on our roof and got us caught!" Zach retorted.

There was a tensed silence. Josh couldn't believe this was happening. He had hit the jackpot.

"Uh, guys," the other woman interjected, "his breathing isn't steady anymore. He's awake."

Josh opened his eyes, a slight grin on his face. "I'm glad you decided not to shoot me." He looked at Zach when he said this.

Zach sneered. "Doesn't mean I still won't, kid."

His eyes scanned the room for Cammie. There she was, standing there, glaring at Zach. Her long, dirty blond hair had grown out to the small of her back, and she looked a lot more grown up than he remembered. He couldn't help but smiling. "Hey, Cammie."

Josh's casual tone seemed to shock Cammie. She turned to face him, the slightest of grins on her face. "Hey, Josh."

The rest of the conversation didn't matter to Josh, at this point. There may have been some talk of taking Josh along with them to Cairo, and Cammie may have called Zach an obnoxious prick, and at one point the other woman, whose name he learned was Marina, may have debriefed him on an assassination.

But all Joshua Abrams could think about in that remote safe house somewhere in Maryland were those two words he _never_ thought he would hear Cameron Morgan say to him ever again: "Hey, Josh."

**Thereeee ya go! I hope you guys like this chapter, because I was very distracted while I was writing it. I'm really stumped on ideas on how to transition the story to where I want it to go, so I'm sorry if this chapter seemed awkward and not-as-epic.**

**Pleaseeeee be awesome readers and review anyway! :D**


	8. Futile Resistance

**Jesus, guys, already over a hundred reviews! Thank you all for your input! It really means a lot! Sorry I've been like, MIA the past few days, but I'll make sure this chapter is extra interesting to make up for it. So, here we go! Chapter eight! :D**

_"Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place." –Zora Neale Hurston_

**Chapter Eight: Futile Resistance**

_P1_

Airport security. What a joke. While terrorists obviously weren't trained in the fine art of anti-metal detector technology, any respectable specialist of espionage could make it through security with _at least_ a pistol.

Zach passed through the metal detector easily. All he had to do was block its wave length and his gun could remain easily on his person. One glance at Cammie showed that she had been thinking the exact same thing.

Zach smirked at her. "Old tricks work every time."

Cammie didn't look at him when he said this; she was still on her "I hate Zach" binge. Of course, he didn't blame her.

Cammie grabbed her flip-flops off the security strip, along with her purse, jacket, and baseball cap—the one she had been wearing since high school. "Don't mess with what works," Cammie muttered finally as she secured the hat back on her head.

Joshua Abrams wasn't as cover t as Zach and Cammie, of course, so it took him a moment to make it through security. He haphazardly tossed his belongings into the bins as they passed through the sensors, and carelessly walked through the metal detector without so much as trying to conceal _a thing_.

Zach shook his head in amazement. They surely were getting a little careless with their trainees these days.

Cammie flipped through her itinerary, biting her lower lip in concentration. "With Josh here, we're going to have to alter our plans completely," Cammie murmured under her breath. She looked _way_ more stressed than one should when targeting a subject of level three difficulty.

Zach laid his hand on her shoulder, and he felt her tense under his touch. "Don't worry," he whispered low into her ear, watching in amusement as Josh struggled with his backpack strap. "I'll help you modify plans on the plane. We've got plenty of time."

Josh finally joined the pair near a Starbucks kiosk. "Where's Marina?" He asked suddenly, noticing that their mentor had all but disappeared. The rainbow of people around them made it easy to lose someone in a crowd, _especially_ someone as elusive as Marina Hastings.

Zach and Cammie exchanged a look.

"Well, let's just say she likes finding her _own_ ways through security," Zach responded with a shrug. "Trust me, she's probably already on the plane by now."

An intercom interrupted them. "We are now boarding flight 23. Repeat, now boarding flight 23."

Cammie readjusted her bag over her shoulder. "Well, that's us." Without another look in Zach or Josh's direction, Cammie turned around and led them to their destination.

Zach found it almost funny—how Cammie was being forced to tow both of her ex-boyfriends along on this mission. After all these years, their paths have collided in the most unexpected way…

"Sir? Your ticket?"

Zach returned to reality as he stared at the boarding-pass lady. Her thin eyebrows, dramatic brow bone, and high cheekbones led Zach to believe she was most likely of Russian descent. "Oh, yeah."

He handed her his crumpled ticket that he had been firmly gripping in his palms. The lady looked annoyed as she smoothed down the ticket. She gave him a forced smile. "Enjoy your flight."

_P2_

The first step in the process of eliminating a target and completing a long-term objective had nothing to do with guns. Zach had learned this at Blackthorne. While that part—the part with the guns—certainly was important, none of it would be possible without the extremely long, monotonous, and _boring_ phase that came before hand: it was what the assassin community liked to call the _reckon phase_.

Cammie was collapsed on the floor, asleep with a pair of binoculars in her hand. Zach, however, was wide-awake, furiously taking notes. There was a lot of crucial information an assassin needed to know before the actual _shooting_ of the target.

"What's he doing?" Josh whispered. Zach tried his very best not to sound annoyed.

"He's taking inventory of all his weapons," Zach whispered back, his tone leveled.

As Zach kept his gaze focused out the window, he felt Josh watching him over his shoulder.

Josh was a typical CIA-trainee on his first mission: over-zealous and obnoxious. Zach had been that way, too, many years ago; and now he realized how _irritating_ it must have been for his father, the man who had taken him on his first assassination. In fact, he didn't think he could tolerate it for much longer.

"Josh," Zach murmured through the darkness.

Josh took a bite of a potato chip. "Hmm?"

"There are two things I really need you to do for me." Zach watched Ahmad Armanjani polish a particularly fancy-looking silencer. "One, stop breathing down my neck." Zach felt Josh take several steps away from him. "And two, shut the fuck up." Ahmad suddenly reached for his cell phone, and Zach's heartbeat increased tenfold. He shoved Cammie with his foot.

Cammie grunted as she was startled into consciousness. "Jerk! It's not my turn-"

Zach's eyes remained glued on Ahmad. "He's on the phone."

That shut Cammie up. She pulled out the device that would trace his call; it took less than thirty seconds. "Got it."

It didn't take Cammie long to send the information to Marina, who was waiting for this kind of intel at a safe house a few miles away.

Cammie turned on the device so that they could listen to the conversation. It was taking place in Arabic.

"I'll have the merchandise to you in approximately six days," Ahmad said into the cell phone professionally. It was business, not pleasure. "Yes, yes. You'll have your A-Ks."

Zach and Cammie widened their eyes at each other. The deal was taking place sooner than they had thought.

Ahmad and his contact exchanged farewells and hung up.

Cammie ran her hands through her hair, looking a little feverish. "Shit."

Zach laid down the binoculars and looked to Josh, who stood frozen, staring at them. He didn't know what to do or say, either. If there was one thing that needed to happen in this moment, it was to _get rid of Josh_. "Go to Marina."

Zach could tell Josh realized this situation was of grave importance, and it was no time to argue. He grabbed the car keys, his jacket, and a secure cell phone and walked out of the apartment without another word.

They were alone. "Cammie-"

Cammie sat up from her spot on the floor. "We can fix this. Six days should be plenty of time-"

"Cammie," Zach said a little more gently. "It's okay. This is doable."

Cammie's wild eyes suddenly relaxed when Zach spoke these words. She picked up her purse off her sleeping bag and dug around inside for something. She was avoiding his eyes.

What didn't make sense to Zach was Cammie's emotional attachment to the destruction of Ahmad Armanjani. He was just a target, a third party Cammie had nothing to do with. Why was she taking this so seriously? "You know," Zach began delicately, his fingers tracing the windowsill, "you're wound _way_ too tight, Gallagher Girl."

Cammie's hands began to shake as she pulled out her Palm Pilot, that curious little device she was always messing around with, and tapped the screen a few times. Her breathing was uneven. "Really not the time, Zach."

Zach took a few steps toward her, the familiar smirk returning to his face. "I think it's about time you relax a little bit."

Suddenly, Cammie's shaky hands steadied. Her breathing returned to normal. She dropped her Palm Pilot back into her bag. Her façade was back. "I _am_ relaxed."

Zach took a few _more_ steps toward Cammie; she didn't back away. "Really?" Zach asked, his hand reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. Cammie's eyes closed, and she leaned in to meet his hand. She sighed.

Suddenly, before Zach knew what was happening, Cammie had grabbed Zach's hand that had come into contact with her face. She threw his body through the air, over her shoulders, and slammed him on the ground. "_Really_."

_P3_

"On my signal," Zach whispered through the thick, humid air. Submerged in shrubbery and dirt, Zach felt thoroughly at one with nature. "He's preparing to exit."

The silence of Cammie's steady breathing through the comms unit was what he took as an "OK."

Approximately 100 feet away from Zach's location were Josh and Marina, surveilling any suspicious activity around Ahmad's property.

Zach watched Ahmad, a man of dark complexion, hop into his imported Mercedes, a shiny red masterpiece. As soon as Ahmad turned over his shoulder to back out of the driveway, he signaled for Cammie to get into position.

As the skidding of Ahmad's tires against the pavement faded away into the distance, Zach watched Cameron Morgan, as smooth and silent as a snake, walk up the stairs to the front door. It took her literally less than ten seconds to pick the lock. Josh and Marina had already disabled any alarms.

In one smooth move, Cammie slipped in the door and shut it silently behind her. All she had to do was plant the bugs and be on her way. Simple.

Zach sat in that shrub, though, feeling like something wasn't _quite_ right—they had disabled the alarms, heat sensors, retinal scanners, and any other secure technology—so what could it be?

When Zach heard the familiar skidding of tires, it hit him—motion sensors. Any self-conscious criminal would have a motion sensor notifier in their car! Ahmad's Mercedes came into view, and he paused before pulling into his driveway. Zach, for once, did not know what to do. Cammie would still be in the house for another sixty seconds.

Zach had seen many things in his lifetime that had surprised him, but none more so than this—just as Ahmad was pulling into his driveway, Joshua Abrams _jumped in front of the car_ and hit the front windshield with a loud _thump_.

Ahmad's face went from blank to furious to worried all in one microsecond. Zach breathed a sigh of relief; Josh might have just bought Cammie enough time to finish the job and get out of there.

"Sir!" Ahmad exclaimed in Arabic, "Are you alright?"

Josh lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his side. Zachary Goode knew, though, that Josh could not have been hit _that_ hard; the car was only going five miles an hour.

"Yes, I'm fine," Josh responded in Ahmad's native language, reaching his hand out to feel for the car. "I'm afraid I forgot my glasses at home today." Josh pulled his way up, using the front bumper to steady himself.

Zach saw Cammie out of the corner of his eye make her way out the front door, thirty seconds early. She must have seen his car pull in.

"You should really watch where you're going," Ahmad now said, sounding annoyed as he fumbled with his car keys.

"Of course, of course," Josh responded, backing away. "Sorry to disturb you, and I hope your car is okay."

By the time Ahmad turned toward his front door, Cammie was already in the brush next to him.

Zach turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Cammie only smirked. "It's done."

_P4_

"Ouch," Josh grumbled as Cammie wrapped some gauze around his ribcage. "Okay, that was stupid."

Marina sipped a cup of coffee and watched Cammie treat Josh with cold eyes. "What have we learned?"

Josh bit his lower lip as Cammie finished up. "Don't jump in front of cars?"

Zach sat a few feet away in amusement. The car had barely tapped Josh, yet here he was with two broken ribs and a bruised hip.

Marina raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at him. "Exactly. And don't leave Zach in charge of checking for motion sensors-"

Zach sat up straighter, on the defensive. "Hey, you never told me to check for-"

Cammie stood up. "Well, it doesn't really matter now, does it? The job's done, Zach. Leave it alone." She smoothed down her hair that was a bit tangled from the underbrush and threw it into a ponytail. She sighed. "All that's important is that we've got everything in place to _finish_ this."

Something in Cammie's eyes—blood lust, excitement—scared him, and Zachary Goode was _never_ scared. He just couldn't help but wonder why this particular target was so important to her. She seemed absolutely enthralled to have this man killed, and Cammie had _never_ been okay with unneeded bloodshed—at least the Cammie Zach knew.

Cammie grabbed her Palm Pilot and left the room.

It was completely silent between Marina, Josh, and himself. They all felt something strange going on with Cammie, as well.

Finally, Josh spoke. "Didn't she seem a little-?"

Zach interrupted him. "Vengeful?"

Josh nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's it."

_P5_

_"Now, son, the key is to remember your purpose, and not think about the consequences." Zach's father smiled at him, holding out to him a small pistol, perfectly tailored for Zach's tiny hands. "Now, shoot me."_

_Zach widened his eyes and tried not to cry. "But Daddy-"_

_"No," Zach's dad interrupted him, his gaze hardening, "Don't cry. I know you don't want to—just do it."_

_Zach's heart beat faster than he had thought possible. His eyes welled with tears and it blurred his vision. He shakily held the gun out, pointing for his dad's thigh. Zachary Goode's father never said it had to be a kill shot._

_Zach pulled the trigger._

_His father screamed in agony as he fell to the floor. Screamed so loudly, Zach didn't think a noise that loud was possible. He covered his ears, trying to block the sound out, but it only got louder, and louder, and louder…_

"Oh my God, Zach," Cammie shook his shoulders furiously, "_wake up_!"

It had just been a dream, Zach had realized, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "I'm up, I'm up!" He murmured, his breathing labored. "What's wrong?"

Cammie's eyes looked soft and concerned as she reached out to push his hair out of his face. "You were screaming, Zach. Nothing's wrong, I just didn't want you waking everyone up."

Zach cleared his throat and sat up out of bed, embarrassed. "Oh. Well, I'm fine. It was nothing." Wearing nothing but his boxers, Zach felt exposed both physically and emotionally. "You can go. We both need our sleep for tomorrow."

Cammie didn't move an inch off his bed. She just stared at him, her gaze now hard. "Okay then."

Zach turned toward the window so that Cammie could leave unnoticed. He almost sighed in disappointment when he heard her stand up. It was strange, having Cammie give up on him around every turn—it was true… she really _was_ done with him.

And that, he realized, was more disturbing than his dream. He was losing her.

"Wait, Cammie," Zach turned around, expecting to see her on her way out the door, but instead, _she was still there_, waiting for him. "I- I think-" he paused, trying to make the right words. Cammie almost smiled at him. "I- just, thank you. For waking me up."

Cammie couldn't contain it anymore—she broke into a grin. "No problem, Zach." She turned around and walked toward the front door.

Zach could feel it in the air—something had changed between them. Cammie was forgiving him for leaving.

Or, even worse, she was beginning to understand why he even left at all.

**Thereeeee ya go! Plenty o' Zammie in the chapter! WOO! Of course, It'll take some time for everything to fall into place (and, you guessed it, not without a few twists along the way), but it'll happen eventually. PATIENCE, guys, PATIENCE. :]**

**SUPER SORRY about the super long wait for this chapter, I've just been so busy! Maybe if I get triple the reviews I'll start updating faster. :P**

**Haha, so read and review por favor! :D**


	9. Exquisite Insight

**Soooooorry for the long wait again! I just haven't been getting as many motivating reviews, so I'm like, "Meeeeh." But a big thanks to everyone who gave me input! :D**

"_Love makes life so confusing, but would you want to live without it?" –Anonymous_

**Chapter Nine: Exquisite Insight**

_P1_

"You're not actually going to touch it, are you?" Cammie asked, looking a little annoyed as Zach reached out to poke the tiny bomb. "What if it's like, motion activated?"

Zach sighed, his shoulders slumping towards the ground. "Please, just let me work."

Josh watched, intrigued, as Zach opened an almost unseen hinge on the bomb that led into the intricate tangle of blue, yellow, and red wires, each one skinnier than a piece of thread. They looked like fine pieces of hair.

Marina sat, uninterested, picking at her finger nails. "C'mon, Zach, hurry up. That bomb in Bali was two times smaller than this one, and you had no problem with-"

"I understand, Marina," Zach snapped, a pair of tweezers in his callused hand. "I'm a _little_ distracted from you guys _talking_ so freaking much."

Marina pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "You were trained to work under pressure. Don't blame us." Marina blew a puff of smoke in Josh's face, and he fanned it away.

"That's a bad habit," Josh muttered, eyeing the cigarette in distain.

Marina took another long, dramatic drag of her cigarette and looked Josh in the eye. "So is running six miles every day. Did you know the cartilage on your knees and ankles will be completely worn away by the time you're forty?" Marina tapped the ash off her cigarette, and it fell to the floor. She ground it into the carpet with the tip of her pointy-toed boot.

Josh rolled his eyes as Zach fiddled with the hair-wires. "At least my lungs don't look like pieces of sh-"

Cammie rolled her eyes. "Enough bickering." She kneeled next to Zach and narrowed her eyes in concentration. It really _was_ a delicate art, what Zach was doing. He couldn't help but wonder where he had learned how to do such a thing.

Josh lay on the plush carpet and stared up at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. The crystal chandelier above chimed together when a door upstairs slammed, and it made Josh think of D.C. and his apartment... And then it made him think of… Nell. She _loved_ wind chimers.

Josh wondered what she thought of his sudden disappearance from the CST program. He had really screwed things up; the CIA would _never_ let him back in now. At best, they would kick him out. At worst, they'd arrest him on counts of treason and espionage. He'd wasted all those years, learning Russian, Arabic, Chinese, studying foreign relations…

"Got it," Zach finally said, his voice smug. He held up the tweezers, gripping a segment of blue wire. Tiny beads of sweat fell from his temples and neck.

Cammie sat up and threw the softball-sized bomb into her duffel. "Let's get outta here."

It was strange, Josh's last few days here in Egypt. He had been hit by a car, interrogated by the Egyptian government, and then invited to stay at one of the most prestigious resorts in all of Egypt only to discover that terrorists had planted a tiny bomb in their room, a thwarted attempt to kill off Josh and the rest of the assassination crew.

Luckily, Zach, Marina, and Cammie had experience with counterterrorism, and they knew all the tricks in the book. They found the bomb probably more quickly than it took to plant it there.

"Where to?" Zach asked, looking between Cammie and Marina. He wasn't sure who was in charge here.

Marina took the last drag of her cigarette and threw it on the cracked sidewalk as they made their way toward the parking lot. "Back to headquarters."

Josh smirked. "And by headquarters you mean-"

"Yes, I mean that shithole across the street from Ahmad's." Marina yanked the pack of Marlboro's out of her pocket to reach for another cigarette, only to find that the pack was empty. She sighed. "We've got two days before the A-Ks arrive."

Cammie readjusted the strap of her bag.

While Josh knew Cammie was _physically_ in that parking lot, he suspected _emotionally_ she seemed to be somewhere else. "You guys head out. I've got some things to take care of."

_P2_

Alone.

It seemed to Joshua Abrams that this was a moment of divine intervention—Marina was out meeting a "contact" and Zach was tailing Cammie—that would allow him to take care of… personal business.

Josh hadn't had the nerve to confront Nell to her face about his leaving. After all, he had been abducted by Zach, a gun pointed to his temple. It was about time she learned what was going on.

Without even realizing he had walked out to the car and grabbed his secure cell phone, Josh robotically dialed Nell's number, his fingers shaky.

It rang once, and Nell immediately answered. "Oh my God, Josh! Where are you? Are you okay? Everyone is really-"

Josh interrupted her. "I'm fine. I'm out of the country right now. That's all I can tell you. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you I was leaving-" Josh made sure to keep an eye on Ahmad's place, in case he was spotted.

Nell sounded like she was about to cry. "No, Josh, _I'm_ sorry. I'm so stupid, leaving you the way I did. And when you disappeared, I didn't know what I was going to do. I just love you so much-"

Josh smiled. "I love you too. We'll deal with all this when I get home, but I gotta go." Before she had a chance to respond, Josh hung up the phone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clutching the phone tightly to his side.

If he could take it all back—digging so deeply into his past, searching for Cammie—he would. In the end, it wasn't worth it. Here he was in Egypt, with the same girl who had once seemed to only be a ghost, and she was in love with someone else. That, if anything, was clear.

No matter how many times Josh told himself he had only wanted closure, he couldn't deny the obvious—he still had feelings for Cammie.

But something in her eyes made Josh recognize that her heart was forever taken. The way she looked at Zach was interesting—a gaze hardened, steeled, unforgiving—it might be mistaken for hatred. But, as Josh had learned over the years, love and hate weren't so far apart.

After all, the opposite of love was not hatred, it was indifference.

_P3_

It felt strange, spying. The conversations that one could hear that weren't meant for their ears—intimate moments, angry ones, and heartbreaking ones. Yet Josh couldn't quite stop himself from listening, watching, and observing.

"What happened in that plane, Zach?" Cammie asked, her head lying on his shoulder.

Zach's hand reached out to play with a piece of her hair. He smiled down at her. "I was afraid."

Cammie sat up and pulled away from him, as if she had just realized what she was doing. "Afraid of what? The Circle would have gotten you anywhere-"

Zach shook his head and put his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Not the Circle. I was afraid of… you."

Cammie looked angry now. She sat up and took a few steps away from him. "Don't feed me some bullshit line about 'being afraid to love me,' okay, Zach?" She almost heaved in anger, her eyes hard. "Do you know how much I let myself hurt for you?" She pointed a finger at him, accusing. Everything would change after this conversation, Josh knew.

Zach didn't say a word. He didn't move a muscle, breath a single gulp of oxygen, for what felt like eternity.

Finally, he spoke. "Does he make you happy?" Zach had almost whispered, staring down at his knuckles. Josh noted his hunched shoulders, a physical sign of hurt.

Cammie threw her hands in the air and turned to face him. "You're really going to do this, Zach? You don't _get_ to do this!" She glared at him, but Josh saw the smallest of tears slide down her cheek. "I'm finally happy."

It was silent for a moment as Zach absorbed this blow. He nodded curtly. "Okay, okay. I'm happy for you, then. I really am." Zach coughed into his sleeve and cleared his throat. He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, and looked up at her. "I just wish things could have been different, Gallagher Girl."

Cammie almost smiled and closed her eyes. "I do too."

Josh accidently bumped his hand against the vent. He winced as he watched Zach and Cammie turn instinctively in his direction. His heartbeat accelerated as he fled to his air mattress. It would be beyond embarrassing if they caught him eavesdropping.

He tried as hard as he could to steady his breathing. Within a few moments, he heard the door creak open. He could almost feel Zachary Goode's burning glare through the bed sheets, but nevertheless, after a few moments he left, closing the door behind him.

Josh listened for noises outside his door for a few moments before returning to the vent. Zach walked back into the room.

"He was pretending to be asleep, I think." Zach sounded amused as he reached up to run his hand through his short black hair.

Cammie smiled. "That's so unlike him." She leaned down to pick up her sweatshirt. "Then again, I haven't known him for a very long time. People change."

Zach eyed her warily. "Yes, they really do."

_P4_

"Three," Cammie whispered, her head hidden behind a stack of magazines, "two," she took a few steps toward Josh, "one."

With the smallest click of a button, an entire building was up in flames. Josh covered his ears. The amount of C4 in Ahmad's house had been enough to blow up the White House four times over, and Cammie thought it necessary to be rid of such dangerous weapons. After all, Ahmad would be dead soon, anyway.

"Awesome." Marina half-smiled at Josh. "That, my friend, is what this job is all about."

Josh took a bite of his BLT and turned to face her. "Catching terrorists with their C4?"

Marina shook her head and grabbed a cigarette. "No, catching terrorists with their C4 and then getting to use the explosives _yourself_." Her smile was mischievous as she took a drag of her cigarette.

"Please," Josh fanned some smoke away, "seriously learn to smoke those outside. You're going to give me lung cancer."

Cammie tossed the detonator in the air and caught it in her hand, a smile creeping across her face. "And they say justice isn't sweet."

Marina finished her cigarette and immediately lit another one. "Don't celebrate yet, kid. If Zach doesn't get Ahmad back here this whole thing is blown."

Cammie logged something into her Palm Pilot and smirked. "Both me and you know there's no way in hell Zach messes this up."

Marina looked thoughtful as the cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. She strolled over to the coffee table and picked up Ahmad's file. "I dunno, it says here this guy used to work for Indian intelligence, no matter that it was only for a month… We don't know who we're dealing with." She flipped through the pages, her eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

Something in Cammie's eyes changed. "Trust me. I know exactly who I'm dealing with. I've been on this guy for years." She went back to her Palm Pilot.

Years? That seemed like an awfully long time to catch one medium-threat terrorist.

Marina seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Her auburn hair seemed to glow with curiosity as she placed the manila file back on the table. "That long, huh?" She took a stride towards Cammie, one hand in her pocket, the other constantly glued to a lit cigarette. "A pavement artist like you should have knocked this guy out within a month."

Cammie shoved the device in her pocket. "This is the first time he's been working solo on his own operations. He was always surrounded by _other_ terrorists."

Marina looked thoughtful. "Really? What makes Ahmad more important than those _other_ terrorists, huh?" She narrowed her hazel eyes at Cammie. "I think it's about time you give up a little more information."

Cammie chuckled and reached for her duffel. Josh expected she was reaching for a file that would tell Marina more about-

A pistol. A shiny pistol was pointed at Marina's skull. Josh heard the ominous click of Cammie turning off the safety lock. "I think it's about time you do your job." Cammie took a seat on the couch, the gun never wavering from its target. "You're not the CIA; you're not the government. You're a highly skilled assassin being paid a lot of money to do very _bad_ things to very _bad_ people. Remember?" Cammie clenched her jaw. "You said it yourself."

Marina slowly raised her hands toward the air and signaled for Josh to do the same. He held his breath in suspense. "You're right, Cameron. I was out of line." Her eyes were hard.

Cammie sighed, the gun tight in her hand. She was ready to pull the trigger. "You made me do this, Marina." She slowly laid the gun to her knee. "Don't question what isn't your business."

In one swift move, Cammie clicked the safety of her gun back on and hooked it on her jeans. "But just in case you get 'out of line' again, I'll leave this _right here_." Cammie smiled and patted the gun with her hand. "Better safe than sorry."

_P5_

"Sniper in place," Zach murmured through the comms. "BB to GG, do you copy?"

Josh took a quick glance at Cammie, who was looking through a pair of binoculars at Ahmad who had just arrived at his demolished house. "I copy, BB. Proceed."

Why had Cammie felt so threatened by Marina's questions if Ahmad was just a terrorist? Josh couldn't help but wonder that the Cameron Morgan who sat next to him was not the same girl she used to be; he knew that for sure.

Josh turned his attention back towards the window, and he watched Ahmad's puzzled expressions as he made his way toward the pile of debris that was now his house. He leaned down, tears falling down his cheeks, to run a black pile of soot through his fingers.

Before Josh knew it, a bullet hit Ahmad dead in his forehead, and he collapsed on his front steps, dead.

"Mission target: complete," Zach said through the comms, sounding strange. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Cammie smiled a grin of true joy. Josh always thought the death of another human being was a _bad_ thing, not one that called for a smile like that. "Finally," she murmured, tears flowing down her face, "justice."

And the strangest thing happened next. One moment Josh was thinking Cammie had to be a sadistic killer to find such joy in the death of another human, another, she reached over and planted a huge kiss on his lips, one that sent tingles of joy down his spine. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

Marina was the one who interrupted the moment. "Huh. Well, that was actually really unexpected."

Josh pulled away from her, blushing. He _really_ still had feelings for Cammie.

One glance at her showed Josh that she appeared to be unfazed by their kiss. She simply smiled and bounced on her toes towards her bag. "A lot of things in life you can't expect."

She sounded so _happy; _Josh couldn't believe it. Perhaps they would get back together…

_No,_ he thought to himself. He had decided Nell was the only woman for him. But it _had_ been a nice kiss…

"And here I thought you were talking about that man I saw you with in Cairo." Everyone turned to face none other than Zachary Goode, who stood in the doorway, looking broken. "But all along, it was _him_."

Finally, the eerie spurt of joy drained from Cammie's face, and she widened her eyes at him. "Oh no, Zach, no, it's not what you think-"

Zach's eyes looked glassy as he clenched his fists to his sides. "You were right about one thing, Cammie." He looked her in her eyes, and it was like there was no one else in the room but them. "You did get your chance."

Josh had no idea what he was talking about, but something in Cammie's pained expression told him it wasn't good. "Zach-"

"Consider me hurt, okay?" Zach snapped at her, tossing a small wooden box her direction. "You'll be wanting that back." He looked broken, hurt, disgusted, and angry all at one time as he turned to leave.

"Please," Cammie took off after him, but Josh knew he was gone, and he wasn't coming back. She slowed at the front door. "I'm so… sorry."

**Wow it's been a really long time since I've updated. Haha. Well, I hope you guys like this chapter, and I'll try to have a new one up as soon as possible! But really, reviews have been slacking and I think that's why it's taking me so long to update. I hate fishing for compliments, but pleaseee everyone read and review! :D**


	10. Author's Note

Heyyyyy, guys. So, I've started school, and that's why I haven't been updating I'd Kill to Love You lately. I don't think I can really call this a hiatus, because I totally plan on writing whenever I have the time, but as of right now, I don't want readers to be like, "Uhhhhhh this story hasn't been updated in three weeks. I'm giving up." You know?

But anyway. You all can expect a new chapter next weekend, but just stay patient with me! :)


End file.
